NOTES
This was originally published in the zine “Nothing to Hide” by Get-The-Boys-Together
Press (in 1998), and has been posted to the web with the publisher’s permission.
STIFfie winner: Best Story (Misc. Non-SF fandom), 1998
written in spring 1998; posted to web July 15, 1999
Vachon wandered around the loft, picking up and discarding one book, then another; glancing over the detritus of Nick’s life, from ancient statues to some truly awful modern art … Did he do that himself? … desperately searching for a diversion and wishing he’d brought his guitar. He glanced over at Nick, who was engrossed in the paper, and sighed softly. There had to be something to do! His eyes fell on the remote, and he smiled inwardly -- that had certainly managed to serve as a distraction! And not a bad ice-breaker, either. He snickered softly; who would have thought that wrestling for a remote could be so much fun? Or, hell, that a staid old-timer like Nick would be so much fun in the sack? Or on the couch, or the floor …. Although come to think of it, it did go a long way toward explaining why Lacroix and Janette wanted him around despite his weird attitudes.
On the other hand, though, Nick hadn’t been too pleased when the cops guarding the place had finally come up to check on them to see what all the shouting was about. Thank God Nick had thought to flip the TV to a loud movie! And thank God Nick had just finished him off so thoroughly that he could barely move and sit straight; he’d still been seeing the world through a blood-tinged haze, tracking heat signals without thought, and the sudden appearance of two such blazing heat sources would have been more than he could have resisted five minutes earlier. Where the older vampire got the control to speak to them rationally, to hide the blazing eyes and aching fangs, to resist the hot blood coursing so close under the surface just a few feet away …. He shuddered faintly in remembered sympathy. He’d bared his throat again the instant the cops had left, cupping the gold head that had buried itself in his neck in rekindled need, biting down hard on the hand shoved into his mouth to keep him quiet.
But Nick had made it pretty clear that it was hands off from then on. Vachon sighed again. Damn his luck; tried for once to do the decent thing, and ended up in “protective custody” as witness to a crime. Why did Nick insist on going through with all this shit? Yeah, fine, Nick had turned out to be a hell of a lot more fun than he’d expected -- but since the other man had declared “no trespassing”, he was right back where he’d started here: bored half out of his skull.
He looked around again, desperate for a diversion, and spotted the motorcycle in the corner. Nick, on a bike? He raised an eyebrow at the unlikely but appealing image of Nick Knight in black bike leathers and metal studs.
“Hey, Nick!”
“Mmm.”
“Nick!”
“What?” Nick asked, lowering the paper and looking at Vachon in annoyance.
“What’s with the bike, anyway?” Vachon asked, gesturing. “ I mean, you don’t exactly seem the biker type. You ever ride it, or is it just for decoration?”
Nick raised the paper again, remarking, “ I used to ride it. It broke down a while ago. I’ve been meaning to fix it, I just never seem to get the time.”
“You’ve got time now,” Vachon pointed out.
“I’m reading,” Nick said calmly, rustling the pages slightly to prove it.
“Oh, c’mon, Nick, I’m bored,” Vachon wheedled. “We can work on it together. Unless you’d rather keep me amused doing other things?” He drifted closer, eyes widened hopefully, and reached one hand over the top of the paper to trace Nick’s lips. He felt them twitch once, then Nick lowered the paper again, staring sternly at him. Vachon smiled. “Hmm?”
Nick held his gaze steadily for a moment, tempted despite his better judgement. A car door closing on the street outside caught both vampires’ attention, and Nick was instantly reminded of the pair sitting outside keeping watch. He smiled faintly. “I think the bike would be safer. Not to mention we’re not as likely to have company banging the door down trying to make sure everything’s all right. I still don’t think they believed me last time.” He bit Vachon’s exploring finger lightly, then released him and stood up. “All right, then -- since you’re so bored, we’ll work on the bike. Let me get my tools.”
Vachon walked over to the motorcycle and ran a hand over the worn leather seat, staring down at it happily. If he couldn’t have sex, at least he’d have the next best thing. He started when a screwdriver was slapped into his chest by an amused Nick, then grinned back and hunkered down.
They worked in companionable silence for a few minutes, stripping down the parts that needed to be worked on. “What makes you think they didn’t believe you when you said it was the television, anyway?” Vachon asked idly after a while, reaching for a wrench. “We weren’t really making that much noise.”
“We weren’t,” Nick agreed, “you were. I’ve never been with anyone so loud.” He cleared his throat, then added, “And considering some of the people I’ve been with, that’s saying quite a lot. Are you done with that?”
Vachon handed the wrench over, affronted. “I am not noisy!”
“Vachon, you make enough noise to wake the dead, if you’ll pardon the expression.” With that, Nick turned back to the part he was working on, frowning slightly in concentration. He could’ve sworn that the last time he’d worked on the bike there had been a few more pieces in this bit ….
Vachon glared. Deciding that the bike had definitely just taken second place on his list of things to do today, he started making plans. If those cops standing watch had to come back upstairs, it wouldn’t be because he was the one yelling his head off!
Frustrated, Vachon wrenched at the bent shifter a bit more energetically than was strictly called for. After a good half-hour spent working on Nick while pretending to work on the bike, he was getting impatient. He’d tried being subtle, but although he could tell Nick was interested, the older vampire was playing it cool, refusing to let it show. He sat back, letting his fingers run over the back of Nick’s hand where it clutched the bike, then drifted them up his arm, leaving a trail of grease.
“That really ought to be looser, you know.” Under guise of reaching for the wrench, he held onto Nick’s waist and bent around him, plastering his chest along the older vampire’s back. To hell with subtlety. Sitting back up, he let his hand fall onto Nick’s thigh, massaging it in circles through the lightweight denim of his jeans.
Nick tried for exasperation, but sounded more indulgent than he would’ve liked. “I thought we were going to finish the bike.”
“Were we?” He ran the wrench up the back of Nick’s shirt, teasing at his vertebra with metal colder than his flesh.
“Well, you were the one who suggested it.”
“I’ve … changed my mind. Call it a prerogative of the young.” He cupped Nick’s head in one hand, dragging him closer into a kiss. Lips parted as soon as they touched, and tongues pressed at each other, seeking entrance and bringing to the surface the desire always barely hidden. Vachon coaxed Nick’s tongue into his mouth, sucking on it, scraping it with fangs as they descended in response. Nick murmured in pleasure, almost a growl, before stopping and pulling back with notable reluctance.
“Oh, no, Vachon. I’m not letting you start this again.”
He shook his head to clear it, the world still tinged with heat. “What? Oh, come on, Nick! We’re stuck here, we’re together, it’s fun; where’s the problem?”
“The problem is, that we’re covered in grease, the floor’s hard, and you make so much noise that anyone could figure out exactly what we’re doing. No.” Not to mention that we each have more than enough complications in our love lives …
“So, we’ll clean up, move to the couch or the bed, and I’ll keep quiet. Deal?” Deciding he’d better not wait for a response, he stood up and pulled Nick after him, heading upstairs for the bathroom.
Turning the hot faucet on full, Vachon waited for the water to heat, and hunted up a towel dark enough to hide the grease stains. Wiping off what he could, he stopped the sink and picked up the bar of soap, dunking it in the water to work up a lather.
Nick followed him in, dismayed by the mess, but determined not to comment on it. A determination that lasted until Vachon shoved the greasy soap into his hands, which he promptly lost hold of and had to chase as it skittered over the floor, leaving blackish smears on the stone tiling.
Vachon looked brightly at him as Nick stood up, clutching the battered soap. “Shower?” he suggested, one slightly grimy hand sweeping back the curtain invitingly. Nick shuddered.
“No thanks,” he replied curtly. “Bad enough the rest of the bathroom’s going to have to be scrubbed clean, there’s no need to add to it.”
“C’mon -- we both need to get cleaned up, and the tub is easier to clean than the tiles, right?” Visions of a dripping-wet Nick at very close quarters dancing in his head, Vachon put everything he had into that coaxing tone.
“The sink is easy to clean, too,” Nick pointed out, but with less force.
Vachon nodded seriously, leaning over to study the filthy water pooled in the sink for a moment. “True,” he agreed. Lightning fast, he grabbed the face-cloth off the towel rack and dragged it through the sink, then spun and lobbed the dripping mass against Nick’s chest. “But the floor’ll get all wet if we just wash up in the sink, see?” He pointed helpfully at the crumpled cloth on the floor, then tsked sadly as he lifted his gaze to Nick’s shirt. “And you’re not helping, either. You’re dripping,” he chided, lips trembling with suppressed mirth.
Nick was staring at him in total disbelief, one hand raised to his soaked shirt. “You threw that at me!”
“It slipped.”
“You threw a soaking wet face-cloth at me!”
“Your shirt was dirty.”
“I can’t believe you threw that at me!”
“Look, Nick, you’re wet now anyway,” Vachon pointed out reasonably. “Why don’t we just grab a shower, and clean off properly?”
“I’m not taking a shower with you! You just threw a wet face-cloth at me! I’m soaked!”
Vachon swallowed; this might have backfired, if Nick was really pissed. He chanced a glance at the blue eyes, and relaxed minutely. The tone might be furious, but the eyes were starting to dance with amusement. “Wet is good,” he said persuasively.
Nick shook his head, bending down to pick up the face-cloth and using it and the soap to clean his hands and forearms off. He glanced up to find mournful brown eyes fixed on his now-clean hands. “What’s wrong?” he asked, despite his intentions to make Vachon work for this.
“Such a waste,” Vachon said sadly. “All that nice, slippery grease, wasted on a cloth instead of being put to good use. ”
Snorting softly, Nick wrapped the soap in the face-cloth and tossed them both into the sink, smirking as black water splashed up and caught Vachon in the back. “You’re impossible,” he announced, turning to walk out. “Go on and take your shower, if you want -- I’m going to change into something clean.”
Disappointment swept through Vachon as he watched the older man walk out, then was replaced by fresh determination. Nick might have forgotten that he’d agreed to some nice, quiet, wild sex -- well, at least he’d stopped saying no to wild sex … well, okay, he hadn’t had a chance to say no that last time, but that didn’t change the fact that he hadn’t said no -- but Vachon hadn’t. As stealthily as he could, he moved to follow the other man into the bedroom, ready to pounce.
“Vachon, what are you skulking around for?” Nick asked patiently, hearing the younger vampire trying to sneak up on him as he tugged the dry shirt on with relief.
“This!” Vachon replied -- and pounced. The force of it carried them both to the bed, and Vachon wriggled hastily to make sure he landed on top.
“Vachon!”
“Nick!” He pulled the older vampire’s shirt up to his armpits, but could get it no further. “Raise your arms.”
“But …”
“Look, we’re clean enough, and we’re comfortable … or we would be if you’d co-operate. I’m even being quiet. Now are there any other arguments?” He rubbed his right hand over a nipple, watching Nick’s face struggle between pleasure and propriety.
“You couldn’t stay quiet if your life depended on it, Vachon! Look, ten feet out and one story down are two cops in a car. I have to work with them every night! You keep on as you have been, I’ll never be able to face them again!”
Vachon sighed. “Look, what would it take you to trust me to keep my mouth shut?” He gave Nick a wry look. “You got a spare gag lying around anywhere?”
Nick looked stunned, and Vachon was sure that if he could have, he’d have blushed beet red.
“I take it that’s a ‘no’?”
“Of course I don’t!”
“Well, then?” He paused. “Why are you so worried, anyway? I mean … so what if they find out. It’s not like it really matters. You’d think hiding one secret would be enough. Listen, if it makes you feel better, I can help you make them forget afterwards, all right?”
Nick looked startled, then thoughtful. He stared at Vachon until the younger man began to wonder what was going through his mind.
“What? Nick?”
“There is one other possibility.”
“Great! What is it?”
“I could keep you quiet, if you let me.”
It took a moment for the meaning to sink through. Then Vachon levered himself off of Nick, leaning back on one elbow. “You mean you … oh, no, Nick … That’s a lot of trust to ask just for a bit of sex.”
“You trust me enough to stay here.”
He shivered a bit at the thought, knowing that during his sleep only Nick’s morals stood between him and the sunlight. “Point taken.” He looked down at the other man, weighing desire and good sense. What the hell. Since when have I played it safe? “Live dangerously.” He relaxed back onto Nick’s body, twining his hands in the blond waves. “Go for it.”
Nick strove to reassure him, obviously flattered at the trust he was being shown. “Don’t worry. I promise I’ll release you just as soon as this is over.”
Vachon stared deep into the blue eyes below him. “Yeah, I believe you.” He shook his head a little. He couldn’t understand Nick’s kind of honour, but somehow he knew he could respect it. Closing his eyes briefly, he inhaled deeply and reopened them, relaxing his will as well as his body, letting Nick into his mind. Letting Nick take control of him. He had rarely done this before, and was far from sanguine about it now -- but somehow the edge of fear lent it an excitement. Nick would be able to make him do almost anything …
Nick smiled, gentle with a touch of mischief, and touched a finger to his lips. “Sssh. Now don’t make any noise above a whisper.”
In answer, Vachon tugged once more at the shirt, and Nick lifted his arms to allow him to remove it. As soon as the shirt was out of the way, Vachon dropped his head and started nuzzling his across the pale chest, licking and tasting. He reached one flat nipple, and scraped his teeth across it gently, lifting his head to watch in approval as it rucked up. His fangs were aching. With a soft growl, he let them descend, then sliced them across the skin just above the taut bud. One bright drop of blood landed on his tongue before the wound closed again, and another growl of pure pleasure escaped him. Elder vampires always tasted so good …
Nick threaded his fingers into silky black hair, wondering in some amused corner of his brain if Vachon even realised just how quiet those growls had been -- the level of control was perfect. “Vachon,” he said gently, tugging the head up. “Vachon?”
Eyes showing a hint of gold looked back at him. “What?” the younger man hissed at him, clearly impatient.
Nick smiled. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m enjoying this -- but less is more, right? Don’t you think we’re both a little overdressed for this?”
“Good point,” Vachon murmured. He knelt up to start stripping, only to have his hands batted away.
“I’ll unwrap my own presents, thank you,” Nick said in mock indignation as he sat up.
Vachon grinned. “Terribly sorry,” he murmured back. “Does that mean that I get to unwrap you, too?”
“If you want,” Nick agreed easily, hands busily baring pale, cool flesh. He leaned forward to nip Vachon’s shoulder with his still-human teeth, grinning at the gasp of anticipation and the disappointed groan that followed. “Patience,” he teased. “All in good time.” He tossed the shirt over the side of the bed and reached for the button of the jeans. Vachon arched forward into his hands; Nick chuckled. He drew the zip down slowly, letting one finger trace its path on the skin being exposed. “No underwear?” he asked, amused. “The things you find out when you actually take the time to undress properly …” He eased the denim off the narrow hips and down the thighs. Vachon sat back and lifted his legs, letting Nick pull them the rest of the way off. “Lovely,” Nick murmured in appreciation, eyeing the slim form before him.
“My turn,” Vachon muttered, reaching for him in turn. Nick smiled, and let himself be undressed by eager hands, caressed by an agile tongue. Vachon slashed tiny cuts in Nick’s skin as he went, lapping up the drops of blood as soon as they appeared. When he glanced up again, Nick’s eyes had begun to glow gold; a surge of stronger lust swept through Vachon at the sight.
“Shall I teach you something new, young one?” Nick murmured, staring hungrily at him. “Shall I teach you one of the benefits of self-control?”
“Who needs self-control when we have this?” Vachon panted, reaching for him, wanting to taste those lips. Nick held him off, smiling slowly. Vachon’s eyes widened -- Nick’s fangs weren’t even descended yet.
Still looking steadily into Vachon’s eyes, Nick slid one hand down his arm until he reached the wrist. He drew it to his mouth, kissing the vein, then resting his teeth on it. Closing his eyes, he slowly released the control that had held his fangs retracted, letting them sink into the skin. Blood rushed over his tongue, every drop sparking higher with lust as Vachon realised what he’d done. He lifted his head after a moment, licking the already-healing wound as he withdrew, and smiled at the younger man. “Self-control,” he said gently, “has its advantages.” It helps that you’ve fed regularly on him for the past thirty-six hours, he thought wryly to himself, shaking at the effort it took not to drain the other dry even so, but there’s no need to point that out just now.
Vachon just nodded, still stunned. That had been … he gave himself a mental shake. A rapier, instead of a broadsword -- no, a stiletto instead of a dinner knife! Incredible … fangs sliding so gently into his skin, like they belonged there, were a part of him. Not the same satisfaction as the fierce plunge he was used to, but sweet -- so very sweet. He blinked. “Self-control.” The whisper was hoarse with his passion. “I’ll have to remember that.”
Nick smiled again, and kissed him, and Vachon could taste his own blood on the other’s tongue. Hungrily, he curled his tongue around the other’s fangs, stroking behind and along their length, teasing, pressing almost hard enough for them to pierce. Nick gasped, his breath quickening, and Vachon smiled to himself, pulling Nick’s body closer, feeling the weight and the skin over his, hearing the rush of old blood through his veins. He protested in a whimper as the older man broke from the kiss, then sighed as the cool mouth trailed over his jawline to play at his ear. Teeth caught the lobe, and lips sucked at the drop of blood there before teasing at the sensitive spot behind it.
His arms moving upward, Vachon clutched one hand in the golden hair, the other caressing lightly over the pale neck, tracing circles over the vein and into the throat’s hollow. Nick’s tongue moved to his throat and mimicked his hand, and Vachon moaned softly, pressing against him, moving his throat closer, hoping for more. Nick’s fangs scraped against his skin, leaving the barest of marks before retreating. As he attempted to lift up, strong hands in his hair prevented his following, and he growled dangerously.
A deep chuckle answered him. “Impatient.” Nick drew back enough to remove Vachon’s hands from their wandering, pinning his arms to the bed with a teasing look of reproof before nipping lightly at the artery in his neck.
As Vachon gasped in anticipation, Nick was already moving downward, avoiding the tantalising pulse, running his lips over the collarbone to Vachon’s chest, sucking and nuzzling there at the dark hair swirled across the pale skin. Hands tensed as he moved closer to a nipple, the fingers laced through his clenching as he breathed across tender flesh. Leaning down, he flicked his tongue at the tip; the tendons stood out in the younger man’s neck as he managed a soft cry, the rest of the sound strangled back under Nick’s control. He rested his lips over the hardening nub, pressing the flat of his tongue gently onto it, pausing to ensure he had the control he would need.
Vachon moaned and growled at the delay. “Nick!”
Waiting until he had stilled, Nick once more sank his fangs in, so gently and slowly … Heaven. To taste the desire and lust in another’s blood, feel the very excitement they did .… He drew the blood into his mouth slowly, savouring it, sucking at the skin to draw more.
Vachon arched his back, pressing into the source of the pleasure as best he could. His head tossed on the sheets as he wailed softly in reaction, his entire being focussed on that mouth where it pulled the life from him, giving back the soul-melting sensation that only vampires shared.
Abruptly, the feeling stopped as Nick pulled away. Head still spinning, Vachon struggled with him, nearly winning free in his desperate bid to continue the feeding, to bury his fangs in Nick’s body in turn, form that circuit that would bring them both to frantic flashpoint.
“No!” The elder vampire’s strength won out, pinning the snarling youngster in stillness below him. “Patience. Not yet. Don’t finish it yet. Wait.”
He found himself calming under the words, his breath slowing as Nick leaned in for another blood-flavoured kiss, and he nipped at the lower lip, thinking once more, so good …
Nick’s hands stroked over him, shoulder to thigh, exciting and soothing at once. They settled on his hips, as Nick’s head rested on his belly, rubbing slight beard-stubble over his tender skin, the rough friction feeding his greedy senses with feeling.
Still nuzzling at the pale stomach, Nick caressed the other vampire’s slender flanks, moving one hand inward to sweep up his thigh, coming to rest with the thumb gently brushing his balls, tickling through the short hairs on them, feeling them tighten and draw up in mindless response. Kissing a trail downward, scraping his fangs along the skin, he parted the eager thighs, licking and sucking his way over the vein. He slashed suddenly down the inside of one leg, fastening his mouth over the wound as he used all his strength to hold the writhing form beneath him, all his mental strength to keep control, prevent the screams of mingled pain and pleasure Vachon unthinkingly strove to let loose. Too soon, he wrenched himself away, the blood too heady to endure for long if he wanted this to last.
Breathing deeply, Nick forced himself up, tried to slow the pounding in his veins. He licked his lips and swallowed with a shudder, savouring the liquid heat as it coursed through him.
Urgent arms pulled him down and held him close for a plundering kiss as Vachon sank his fangs into Nick’s lip and scoured his mouth, feverish with the taste of their mingled blood.
Wrapping his hands around the other man’s shoulders, Vachon quickly flipped them over, stretching his length along Nick. “You’ve been doing enough of the work. It’s my turn, now.” Vachon kissed him again, briefly but passionately, then worked his way downward, sliding down Nick’s body as his hands kneaded the pale chest beneath his and his mouth made its slow way across his chest. Biting down, he drew blood, then pulled back to let it well up before running his tongue through the fluid, lapping it slowly. Nick sighed, and sank lower into the bed as his muscles relaxed under Vachon’s ministrations.
Vachon moved farther down Nick’s abdomen, repeating the careful bite and suction at random intervals, drawing the bright blood in with growing hunger. Nick’s muscles began to tense again under the maddening sensations as his bloodlust rose to match the younger vampire’s. Sharp fangs grazed over his erect cock, wrenching a growl from him as he arched up, needing more. With an answering growl, Vachon swallowed him whole, sucking hard, then drew his head back up, letting his fangs scrape the sensitised skin.
Nick sank his hands into the long hair and pulled, hard, dragging the other man up beside him. He rolled so that Vachon lay beneath him, grinding his cock hard into the dark-furred groin. Vachon was panting lightly, feral-eyed with silent need, and Nick threw his head back in triumph. With a low cry, he dove down to bury his fangs deep in the pale throat, leaving his own neck bare to the younger man’s fangs, shuddering in pure pleasure as he felt them drive into him.
Bloodlust met bloodlust in a spiralling circle of pain and passion, and Nick revelled in the sensations sweeping through Vachon’s blood, even as Vachon rode out Nick’s own desire and need, until the joining was complete: Nick could taste himself in Vachon’s blood, and let himself plunge over the edge into shattering orgasm as he pumped his hips one last time, then collapsed across the slim body shaking beneath him.
Moaning helplessly, Vachon sucked harder at the wound in Nick’s neck, feeling Nick’s pleasure and frantically reaching for his own, drawing in as much blood as he could. He needed to come so desperately that it hurt, but nothing was working, not even that incredible joining, or the feel of Nick slamming that hard cock into his own. He clutched hard at Nick, crying out in frustration, the sound leaving his throat little more than a whimper.
And remembered. Not yet. Don’t finish it yet.
Disbelief warred with clear memory, and Vachon turned to glare at the sated man sprawled across him. "What about me?" he hissed.
Rousing slowly, Nick opened lazy eyes on him. “What about you?”
Lunging at him, Vachon pinned Nick to the mattress. “You bastard!” The intended shout came out as a subdued snarl, and Vachon grimaced in rising frustration. Nick moved against him, frowning briefly in puzzlement, and he gasped at the added stimulation.
Nick’s frown deepened before making way to comprehension. He remembered now: his muttered command not to let it end yet, a command Vachon had to take literally due to the controls on his mind. Nick looked up into eyes blazing with fury and need, and delicately reached out his mind to sense the other’s underlying feelings, to figure out how badly he was hurting. The just-shared blood-bond made it easy, and he found himself going effortlessly deeper, below the desperation, touching hidden excitement and anticipation. Nick blinked. Way down deep, Vachon was enjoying this all very much.
If he handled this right, this could get interesting. Just how far could he push the younger vampire? Slowly, he rose up and met Vachon’s mouth with his own, using the distraction of the kiss to manoeuvre himself on top of the still-tensed body. He broke the contact, eluding the pouting lips that followed after him seeking to prolong the sensation.
Slowly, he ran his hands over Vachon’s shoulders and down his arms, then back up his chest, soothing rather than arousing. Moving to his face, he ran his fingers through the long black hair, fanning it over the sheets, massaging his scalp gently. He leaned over and licked the blood-sweat filming the high forehead, savouring the taste and once again giving mental thanks for the convenience of dark sheets. “Just relax,” he whispered into the nearest ear. “Trust me, you’ll enjoy this.”
“Trust you? Look, Nick …”
“Ssh. Relax.”
Vachon tried to stay angry, but found the energy harder to conjure up. More of his damned control. I really ought to be more pissed off about this. But those hands did feel so good …
The hands brushed down the centre of his chest and outward, sweeping the hair gently into circles, avoiding his nipples, which ached in anticipation. His arousal had calmed to the point it was no longer painful, but his cock still throbbed too strongly for him to think straight, and his fangs ached to sink into flesh. “Nick …”
Slowly, Nick’s hands wandered further down, playing across Vachon’s stomach as the muscles tightened in reaction. His lips followed, grazing lightly over the patch of hair around his navel, tongue flicking out to taste there. Vachon twitched and grabbed for the blond head, but Nick pulled away with a smile.
“We’re going to try something different now.” He swept pale fingers over Vachon’s hips and down his thighs, which fell quickly apart as the younger man groaned an affirmative. Nick rested his hands on the wide-spread legs as he leaned in to make sure that Vachon understood him. “I’ll take care of you now. I’ll give you what you need. And all you have to do is stay still. It’s up to you, but every time you move, I’ll stop.”
Vachon lay panting as Nick’s hands massaged their way back up his inner thighs, tracing along the path his fangs had marked out earlier. A tickling touch caused his leg to jerk, and the touch was removed. He lowered the leg, and after a moment, the teasing resumed.
Twice more the slow stroking caused him to jump in reaction, and each time, the touching ceased completely until he was still again. Biting into his lower lip, Vachon dug his hands into the sheets, clutching fistfuls of the silk in his effort not to move. In reward, the touch caressing him became a tongue, and he moaned in time with its movements as it swirled closer to his cock. Cool breaths followed, and he tensed with the struggle to hold back his shivers.
Without warning, the moist mouth enveloped his balls, sucking, and was immediately gone as he twisted and cried out. Frantically he tried to regain control, needing that touch again. When he stilled, it returned again, and his whimpering escalated as his muscles trembled with the effort, but he managed -- barely -- to restrain himself from any further movement.
Nick continued, nibbling and tonguing a wet path over his thighs and groin, darting to his sensitised sac at irregular intervals. As the torment shifted to include his aching cock, his whimpers melded into a drawn-out keening noise, choked off abruptly as his length was enveloped by that mouth, the divine sensation more than he could stand. He felt silk tearing under his fingers as he arched slightly off the bed, wishing for a split second that Nick had kept control here, too -- I could stay still if he told me, then he wouldn’t have to stop! -- before the suction continued, and he allowed himself to hope his movement hadn’t been noticed. He doesn’t see, maybe he just doesn’t care any more, he’ll keep going, he has to, pleasepleasepl …
Two fingers drove suddenly into his ass, and he choked off a scream and writhed on the bed, trying simultaneously to push himself onto those fingers and into the mouth above him. He grabbed for Nick’s head frantically, attempting to keep him in place as his legs grabbed at the slim hips. The older man’s strength won out, and he slipped away, pushing Vachon flat again and smiling down at him in obvious lust and amusement, making no move to resume his actions.
“Nick! Please, Nick …”
“You moved.” The voice gave him no quarter.
Vachon grabbed for the older vampire, but his passion-clumsy attempts were evaded again. Groaning, he moved his own hand to his cock, frantic to relieve the pressure. He squeezed himself, pulling hard, moving his other hand down to rub at his balls roughly, rolling them over his palm. Sensation heightened, and he could feel the rush of blood under his fingers, but though he approached the peak, the compulsion was still there; he could not overcome it. Don’t finish it yet. He sobbed as he increased the pace once again, desperate to finish.
Nick settled back a bit as Vachon turned his attention to himself, eyes gleaming as he watched the younger man’s frantic efforts. He could feel the exquisite need sparking on his own nerve-endings; the earlier blood-bond had not yet faded completely away, and the vicarious stimulation of working Vachon to fever-pitch was reawakening his own arousal. Bloodlust spiked sharply up, echoing Vachon’s, and Nick hissed briefly in reaction, fangs almost dropping before he caught control of himself again. What next? he wondered, curious to see what the younger vampire would do.
Keeping one hand on his cock, Vachon raised the other to his lips, biting at it, tearing through the skin, sucking at his own blood, shuddering helplessly at the feelings, hoping the feedback would tear his will free.
Nick shuddered faintly in sympathy as he caught the echo of that need, and decided it was time to take a hand again before Vachon went insane. By this point he could stand a little relief, himself. Vachon was an incredibly sensual man, and watching him reaching for completion was one of the most erotic things Nick could remember seeing. He reached out and gently withdrew the ravaged hand from the other’s mouth, bringing it to his own lips and lapping at the blood. “Shhh,” he soothed.
“Please … please,” Vachon begged.
“It’s all right,” Nick murmured, sucking at the thin wrist. Vachon moaned, dropped back onto the bed, and lay perfectly still. Hunger and relief poured out from the younger man in waves, and Nick grinned tightly. He nipped the healing flesh in approval, wringing another moan from the sweating form.
Nick spent a few minutes soothing the shuddering man, gentling him down again until the need was no longer painful, so that they could both enjoy the rest of this. Delicate nips on cool flesh brought the taste of everything Vachon was feeling as he twitched and whimpered at every touch, slowly calming until he lay silent and boneless, panting lightly, sweat-sheened and glowing-eyed as he stared up at Nick.
“How much more?” he rasped out.
“How much more can you take?” Nick asked, amused, his own burgeoning arousal faded enough that more game-playing sounded attractive.
Vachon swallowed hard; Nick could feel him wondering about the answer, the controls he had on the slender vampire thrumming slightly. With a faint inner frown, he opened his mind briefly to deeper impressions, then relaxed as he confirmed that Vachon wasn’t angry -- at least, not down past the surface thoughts. He was still enjoying all of this, which meant Nick could enjoy it with a clear conscience.
“I don’t think I can stay still through another round like that,” Vachon admitted abruptly. “Not for long, anyway. Not unless you … tell me to.” He squirmed for a bare instant before stilling again, and brown eyes met Nick’s squarely, the message in them clear: tell me to.
Nick lifted an eyebrow, intrigued. Well, well, he thought. He’s even willing to admit how much he likes it. Aloud, all he said was, “Pity.” He grinned and leaned down to kiss lips that lifted to meet him, then drew back. “I suppose we’ll have to think of something else, then.” He pretended not to notice the flare of disappointment in the other’s expression. Always leave them wanting more, he mused, and grinned again. “Think you can control yourself enough to help me out?” he asked, gesturing toward his softened cock. “I’ve fallen a bit behind, here.”
“Behind?” Vachon said, outraged, and grimacing again when the word came out as a whisper. Nick smiled. Glaring, the younger man continued in a hiss, “You’re one ahead of me, if you’ll remember!”
“I remember,” Nick agreed complacently. “Had a wonderful time. But, look, if you’d rather not do this …” He shrugged.
“No, wait!” Vachon lunged for him, wrapping one arm around Nick’s waist and pulling him back, kissing his way quickly from shoulder to neck. “I’m sorry,” he murmured into one ear.
“Are you?” Nick schooled his voice to respond coolly, carefully hiding his satisfaction. “If you don’t want to do this, I can stop any time.”
Vachon clutched him more tightly, and continued his oral encouragement. “I want it, I do, Nick. Just help me out, too, please? Whatever you want.” One long-fingered hand reached down to caress the cool shaft, stroking steadily. Nick murmured in approval, shifting to get more comfortable, until he was propped up against the headboard, Vachon half-sprawled beside him.
Vachon started licking and nibbling his way across Nick’s torso as he pumped the hardening cock, pausing to bite at each nipple and suck down the drops of blood that appeared. Nick wrapped one hand in the long hair to keep him there, pressing the fangs against his flesh. Obediently, Vachon bit deeper, then slashed short furrows in the muscled chest, lapping up the blood. A hand caught his chin before he could swallow, and drew his head up far enough for Nick to kiss him, drinking in his own blood. Vachon draped himself comfortably against the broader chest, opening his mouth wide to the kiss while his hand kept working at Nick’s cock.
Nick swiped his tongue one last time around the inside of Vachon’s mouth, tasting as deeply as he could, then broke the kiss, licking the lips in apology as Vachon moaned softly. He put both his hands on the narrow shoulders and pushed gently downward, rumbling in approval as Vachon started trailing his tongue down Nick’s chest. He didn’t let up the pressure until the dark head was almost at his groin. The tongue continued its journey without pause, reaching out to swab across the head of Nick’s cock. Vachon wriggled until he was stretched out along Nick’s leg, head pillowed on his hip, mouth opening to take the hard shaft in. He nipped at its length with his fangs, tempted for just a moment to bite down, give the older man an ultimatum…
“Vachon,” Nick growled, waiting for the gold-tinged gaze to rise. “If you damage me, I will leave you in this condition until you understand what a mistake you’ve made. You’re mine until I decide to release you.” He stroked the long hair. “Do you understand?”
Vachon nodded slowly, then returned to his task, licking and nibbling gently along the entire length. The hand that had been stroking moved down to cradle Nick’s balls, rolling and tugging them. Nick’s hand tangled in his hair again, encouraging him, and Vachon grew bolder. Pulling away for a second, he moved to straddle Nick’s leg, pressing his own cock firmly into the hard shin before sliding over to lie between Nick’s legs. He kept Nick’s leg trapped between his thighs but focused instantly again on Nick’s cock. He drew the entire head into his mouth, sucking and licking, then let go to lick his way down the underside of the shaft. When he reached the base he switched positions, hand moving to ring and stroke the shaft and mouth taking over the job of manipulating the tightening balls.
Nick kneaded both his hands into silky hair in rhythm with the mouth torturing him, then realised there was a matching rhythm working on him even farther down -- Vachon was thrusting steadily against his leg. Before Nick could tease him about it, Vachon’s mouth left his balls and he found himself gasping as cool breath blew across wet skin. Vachon carefully leaned in again to scrape his fangs against the shivering flesh, not breaking the surface, and Nick moaned.
Vachon heard the sound with a quick burst of satisfaction. With a slight twist of his head, he started drawing his fangs delicately up along the entire cock -- just hard enough to draw beaded lines of blood in his path. As soon as he reached the head he opened his mouth wide and plunged down on it, swallowing Nick to the root and desperately holding back on the almost overwhelming urge to bite hard and suck the older man dry. He drew back up to the crown, sucking fiercely and scraping his fangs again the whole way, then lapped across the weeping slit once before descending again. With Nick settled firmly in his mouth and partway down his throat he swallowed the liquid he’d gathered up from the slit and the wounds he’d inflicted, knowing the rippling sensation would drive the other man mad, and was rewarded with a more drawn-out moan. Unable to ignore his own needs any more, he started rubbing his cock against the lightly furred leg as he found a perfect sucking rhythm.
Head thrown back against the headboard, Nick found himself practically beyond all thought as Vachon tried to swallow him whole over and over again, rippling his throat muscles against the throbbing cock. Vaguely, he noted that his leg hurt, and opened his eyes to find out why. Vachon was writhing against him, knees clenched tightly around Nick’s leg to hold it still, and hips thrusting a straining cock against him. Slowly, Nick realised that some of the overpowering need he felt was Vachon’s, the blood-bond between them strengthening again as they each got closer to the edge. The sight of those pumping hips triggered his own instincts, and he managed a short thrust upward as Vachon began to withdraw, sheathing himself entirely again. Thought fled a moment later as the tight throat vibrated against his cock, then vibrated again. His hands knotted hard in the long hair, hips lifting against Vachon’s weight to thrust deeper into that wet cavern, wanting more of that sensation.
Vachon whimpered again as he felt Nick thrusting further down his throat -- was the man deaf? The skin pressed to his cock and the blood sliding over his tongue were firing him higher once more, and his own pulse roared through his head. He’s going to do it again, he thought incredulously. He’s going to come and just leave me hanging again! Knowing what he was risking and not caring any more, he bit down with his fangs, hard enough to be noticed as pain, not pleasure, releasing instantly when Nick stilled. He wrenched his head up to meet the blazing eyes, whispering, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! But please, Nick -- I need more. Badly. Please.”
“I warned you –” Nick grated, but Vachon cut him off.
“– not to damage you, I know. I didn’t! It was just a little bite, no damage done. Christ, Nick, please, I’m desperate,” he pleaded.
Relenting, Nick nodded and slid down to lie flat on the bed. Vachon sobbed once in relief, falling into the older man’s outstretched arms then giving a muffled yelp as Nick flipped them over and sharp fangs ripped into his shoulder. “Don’t ever bite me like that again,” Nick hissed, “or I swear you won’t live to see another moonrise.”
“I won’t, I promise,” Vachon said, the promised relief all he could think about. He’d worry about later, later.
Nick growled, but settled on top of the slimmer body. He drove his cock into Vachon’s, grinding them together hard. The younger man groaned, reaching up to pull Nick in as close as he could, trying to bite. Nick evaded him, determined to make this last as long as possible. He set up a driving rhythm, pounding against the other, forcing them both deeper and deeper into the need to bite, to drain, to take, until each of them was snarling and growling and Nick barely remembered why he was doing this.
Finally, Vachon’s face was twisted out of all humanity with the frantic desire clawing through him, and Nick knew it was time. “Now, Vachon,” he snarled hoarsely. “Finish it.” He dove down to the bared throat, plunging his fangs in as far as they could go. His own flesh was pierced in the same moment, and he shuddered with the pleasure of the pain.
As the mental restraints that had held him aroused for so long were released, Vachon arched up off the mattress into the punishing body slamming down into him. The pale throat offered to him was heaven incarnate, and he barely even noticed the fangs in his own throat at first, too intent on assuaging the bloodlust that had been raging unslaked in him all this time. He groaned as his fangs sheathed themselves in flesh, sucking frantically to bring the sweet blood pouring into his mouth. Finally, he felt the pulling sensation on his own neck as Nick drank from him, and shuddered as he relished the feeling.
The already-established blood-bond deepened as they drank from each other, hips still thrusting in rhythm. Nick revelled in the frustration-desire-restraint-need-outrage-yearning-lust-fury-pleasure he was getting from Vachon’s blood, knowing the younger man had never had an experience quite like this one before. He drank deep, tasting all this, tasting memories, and, finally, tasting himself.
Vachon was inundated with sensation and memory as he drank from Nick, tasting joy and fear and love and hate, and always the knowledge of Lacroix and Janette somewhere in Nick’s blood, and for a moment he mourned that he had no such close family. Mourning was lost in lust before he even had a chance to notice it, though, and he sucked harder, finally tasting himself in the rich mix.
The circle complete, blood-bond as deep as it was going to get, each man tightened his fangs’ grip in the other’s throat and tipped over the edge, cocks hammering into each other one last time, muffling their cries in torn flesh.
Nick drew his fangs out languidly and flopped over to one side, frowning slightly as Vachon’s fangs ripped his throat further. “You could have at least taken them out before I moved,” he complained mildly. When there was no response he stirred enough to prop himself up and look at the younger man. Initial disbelief turned to amusement. He passed out! Well, well, well, he thought, smugly. Another thought occurred to him, and he carefully withdrew the controls he’d placed on Vachon’s mind, leaving him completely free. Let’s just hope he doesn’t decide to wake up shouting, he thought wryly. Be just my luck to keep him quiet during all of that, then have our friendly neighbourhood stakeout team up here because of a ‘morning-after’ fight! Still, though, it would be worth it. That had been incredible. And Vachon certainly seemed to have enjoyed it. Grinning, Nick stretched, then settled himself to wait for the younger man to wake up, making plans in the event that Vachon woke up smiling instead of shouting.
Vachon came to slowly, stretching luxuriously. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so … sated. He relaxed back into the mattress, too comfortable to move, and finally thought to open his eyes and look around for the cause of this well-being. Nick was sitting nearby on the bed. “You’re looking very satisfied with yourself,” Vachon commented mildly, then blinked as he realised it had come out in a normal tone of voice; the controls keeping him quiet had been removed, as promised. His mind was entirely his own again.
The smug smile deepened. “Well, you’re looking very satisfied.”
“Mmmm. That was incredible.” Deciding he had a reputation of sorts to maintain, he gathered up enough strength to manage a burst of outrage. “I should kill you for making me go through all that, though. I thought I was going to implode.”
“But you won’t,” Nick said calmly. “Admit it -- it made everything better.”
“I’ve never really been a fan of delayed gratification,” Vachon grumbled, then gave a mental shrug and conceded defeat. Given the way he’d passed out after coming, there wasn’t much point in denying it. “But you’re right.” He paused, looking curiously at the other man. “Where did you learn to tease like that, anyway?”
Nick smiled ruefully, thinking back to long nights and longer days spent with a master sensualist. “Around,” he said vaguely. His eyes swept over the naked man still sprawled before him, relaxed and, for the moment, unguarded. “Maybe someday I’ll show you the rest of my repertoire.”
“Christ, you mean there’s more?” Vachon said, not sure whether he should be horrified or aroused. He was leaning towards aroused, but hadn’t quite recovered enough yet to do anything about it.
“Oh, yes,” Nick replied, amused. “We’ve barely scratched the surface.” He cocked an eyebrow at the younger man, sensing the spark of interest. “Are you game to try? The same conditions apply: you let me put controls on you to keep you quiet … among other things. Temporarily, of course.”
Vachon swallowed, eyes going wide. He wasn’t entirely sure he trusted the gleam in those blue eyes, but on the other hand -- if what Nick had just done to him was “barely scratching the surface” of what he could do, did he really want to pass up the chance to find out? “You mean now?” he asked hoarsely.
Nick shook his head slowly. “No, not now. Later, after you’ve had a chance to recover properly, and we’ve both fed.” He reached out a hand to stroke Vachon’s face, then trailed it deliberately down his neck and torso, smiling at the thought of what was to come.
“Nick?” Vachon couldn’t tear his eyes away from the pale face above him, even as he shivered slightly under the teasing touch that was now sweeping from throat to groin in random patterns. The elder vampire was staring at him like Vachon was a feast and Nick was a starving man. Completing the image, Nick licked his lips, eyes narrowing slightly, fixed on something Vachon couldn’t see.
Vachon, willingly bound to Nick’s mental constraints, told to think about what he’d most like Nick to do to him, then to imagine that happening -- working himself into a frenzy without Nick ever laying a finger or a fang on him -- while Nick watched. Then told to hold himself at that level, while pleasuring Nick.
“Umm, Nick?” The teasing hand was becoming more insistent, and Vachon could swear there was a hint of gold in the blue eyes.
Then Vachon kneeling up with his hands on his thighs, forbidden to use them; Nick behind him, cock nestled between his cheeks -- or inside him -- one arm wrapped around the slim waist to hold Vachon close, while the other hand pulled the dark head to one side, leaving the pale throat vulnerable. Biting into the soft flesh, warm blood bursting into his mouth as his cock poured liquid over the narrow buttocks, only at the last second allowing Vachon to bite into Nick’s wrist for his own release.
“Nick?” Vachon asked again, louder. Nick was obviously getting aroused again, somehow -- the eyes were more gold than blue, and the hand was rubbing Vachon’s cock like it was a well-loved pet -- and if there was going to be a party, he had decided that he wanted to be in on it.
Blinking, Nick returned his attention to the present, giving Vachon’s cock a final gentle pat and smiling at the younger man, eyes once again a clear sky-blue.
“Whatever it is, I’m in,” Vachon announced, reaching for the hand that had just abandoned him. He shivered again at the flare of pure red lust in Nick’s eyes, and swallowed. What the hell had he just agreed to?
“Later,” Nick repeated, not without some regret. But even vampires needed to recharge, and besides, like he’d told Vachon -- waiting would make it better in the long run. “Right now, I think I could use that shower you were talking about earlier.” With that he simply got up and walked out of the bedroom, leaving a stunned Vachon behind.
This afternoon had not turned out quite the way Vachon had planned. It hadn’t turned out at all the way he’d planned.
But it looked like the rest of his stay here in “protective custody” was going to be a hell of a lot more interesting than he’d thought.
~ fin ~
Feedback of any sort, from one line to detailed crit, is always welcome, at arduinna at trickster dot org.
Authors’ Note: This story is excerpted from a longer work in progress. If you enjoyed it, please let us know – it may inspire us to finish faster!
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