Forget my daylight, torture my night

[sequincy]

Who: Ishida Uryuu & Eric Northman
When: TBA, night
Where: Fangtasia
Summary: Uryuu goes looking for an answer concerning Shikamaru's drug habits; he finds one. (Continued from here)
Warnings/Notes: Violence, gore, drug use, inappropriate touching/sexual tension--vampires, basically. UPDATE: It's gonna get steamy and bloody up in here, folks. Hide yo kids.
--


"I don't know you. And I'm spoken for." But he'd been embarrassed, and his answer sounded foolish. Like Eric said - those weren't things that mattered here; those weren't what this place was about.

He watched Eric's tongue and realized he could still feel his touch. It was true, there wasn't a person in the room who wouldn't want to be in his place right now, and that had nothing to do with Uryuu. Eric was a drug all his own. He'd be lying if he said he couldn't see the seduction.

"Ishida Uryuu," he offered after a moment, saving face. "What's yours?"

The second shot was more than he'd wanted. Disadvantageous. The Quincy was about to refuse it when he realized what Eric was implying. Sure enough, there was something dissolving into the vodka. Uryuu's sharp gaze caught the image of a bird before the alcohol swallowed the stamp completely. He took the glass in hand. Slowly.

This was it; the owner of Fangtasia had just offered him a drug. This was what he'd needed. "Is it only one drop?" he heard himself ask, remembering Shikamaru's phrasing. It was important he seem familiar with it.

Uryuu's heart was pounding louder than the pulsing music; he licked his lips.

He knocked back the shot.

Comments

[manofthenorth]

"Eric Northman."

He knew he couldn't touch him yet, but it wouldn't be more than a moment longer. He shifed to one side, smoothing his fingers across the top of the counter, walking them to the glass and swirling his fingers around the shot glass. He vanished the shot glass fast, but not fast enough for Uryuu's eyes to miss the fact that he simply smashed the glass into powder in his palm.

Eric looked back up, stepped back, and circled around to Uryuu's other side, leaning in over his shoulder.

"What was what? I'm not sure what you mean. Come away. Let me show you the rest of the club."

His lower lip brushed against Uryuu's throat, and he made no attempt to prevent it--the blood worked quickly, and quicker still with alcohol.

"I promise to be discreet."

He licked his teeth, and split his mouth into an open, friendly smile. It was in fact anything but, for his eyes betrayed the predator in him, red rimmed and sharp blue, unblinking.

[sequincy]

Northman. Man of the North. It fits, was Uryuu's last thought before the V pulsed through him.

The high was just that - a pulse, a bundled electrical signal that jolted through his nerves and lit up the room. Uryuu heard someone gasp, never realizing it was himself. His gaze fixed with supernatural attention on the slow march of Eric's fingers, watching them curl like quicksand around the rim and then constrict. A million spiderweb fractures spread over the glass before exploding into a glittering cloud of dust. Uryuu turned in the same slow motion. The cloud wafted into the dancing mass of lights. They were everywhere - bobbing lights. Dim ones, colored one, lights that shone like stars and lanterns and candle flames, quickly snuffed. Living reishi. Souls free from their bodies, twisting in the thick, rolling waves of sound. Uryuu heated. Fingers fumbled for his coat zipper and shed it like a dead, dry husk. He wouldn't need the cloth cocoon anymore - he was emerging, a rebirth in white silk. Alive. Powerful. Uryuu had the sudden, unique sense that he could swallow all the energy from the room and take it into himself, let it pool into his veins through outstretched palms or parted lips. He could darken the dance floor and radiate a supernova. He opened his mouth to try.

Sparks showered harmlessly down his throat, flowing from Eric's lips against his skin. Uryuu absorbed them and shivered, wide-eyed. His hand found the vampire's arm in fascination. Heat swelled.

Eric was the brightest thing he'd ever seen; blinding without burning. Beautiful. Transcendent.

"I'll follow you." Uryuu closed his eyes; Eric shone through the lids. On opening his eyes again, the light had dulled to a steady, pulsing warmth. An absent smile nearly played across his lips, but then he remembered - he needed something from Eric. He was here for something. Not the light, not the energy - the drug. V. This. Right. Discreet, yes, they had to be discreet. Was he sweating?

"Is there somewhere - cooler?"

[manofthenorth]

Eric was careful to take the coat for himself, rather than let the crowd whisk it away until it disappeared. It was part of the Quincy's outfit, and he could tell hand-sewn. It would be easy to track down, to track back to him, or to whoever ended up with it, and he was nothing if not meticulous to detail.

For a moment he wondered what the boy saw, what painted itself before his eyes with the help of the drug in his system, but Eric had very little interest in the effects of V beyond how biddable it made his victims, and the money it added to his private account. Money and power--you could live an eternity with that.

And just as easily throw it all away for something special. Something particular.

"I can think of somewhere."

Eric stepped back again, and with his hand out before him, let the Quincy hold it, guiding Uryuu after him, walking backward without looking as the crowd made room for them like they were allowing royalty to pass. He should take him to the stage--he didn't.

The basement was cool, and there was a breeze from the central-air of the subway tunnels that linked onto it, cut off from the Darkness above. This was his personal dungeon, and it was not meant to be warm, not like the club above, where the heat made hearts beat faster, and the smell of bodies a thick, living mire that overwhelmed predator and prey alike.

The decorations, on the other hand, were questionable, but perhaps only to someone in command of all their senses. He circled his prey, smiled his cool smile, leant in close enough to his shoulder to smell the sweat clinging to his collarbone, settling in the hollow of his throat.

"You're burning up. Perhaps you should take off the rest of your clothes."

[sequincy]

They floated through and past the crowd, and it was only once they descended into the basement that he felt he could breath again. Air filled his lungs in a cold surge, washing the tension from his shoulders. Finally, relief from the heat.

It was darker down here, easier on eyes that had become too finely attuned to movement and light. Eric's glow reflected off steel dangling from the ceiling and on the walls, chains that glittered like fresh snow. He could still hear the music from above them, a pulsing heartbeat in time with stamping feet, but it was muffled, reminding him again of heavy snowfall. Cool, quiet, safe.

As Eric circled in Uryuu circled back until the motion (and his drunkenness) dizzied him. He grabbed Eric's arm again, laughed and was surprised to recognize it as his voice. He wasn't used to hearing it. It echoed, briefly.

He unzipped his shirt, looking for a place to set it. (High or drunk, it didn't matter - Uryuu would never put his clothing on the floor.) He noticed a broad wooden desk, sturdy but pockmarked with use. There, that would do. Fine hairs rose on his arm, and Uryuu could feel all the pores of his skin opening to breathe again in a delicious rush.

"It was their reishi," he informed Eric, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of the shadows. The darkness smelled like velvet. "There was too much of it. That's why it was so hot. It's better down here."

On opening his eyes, he saw his hand trailing down Eric's cheek to the curve of his jaw, watched it slip and fall onto a chest that never rose for breath. Eric's light bled into the tips of the Quincy's fingers and through the veins of his arm in a sharp, shining silver. Heat pooled in the pit of the his belly, filling slowly. When Uryuu swallowed he tasted the thickness of it on his tongue, and he pressed his palm over Eric's silent heart. "You're full of light; you glow. ...Ah, is that why they love you?"

[manofthenorth]

Reishi. Japanese, he'd said, and he knew some, but not enough. Eric was a vampire of the western world, and though he knew many languages, they were all Roman, Slavic and Germanic in origin, and he had no intention to open his mind to the East much more than he had to. He excelled in his chosen profession as the man of the north, tall and cool as ice, drawing people to heel no matter where he went.

This boy was no different. Even without the drug he'd have drawn him in eventually. So when Uryuu turned back toward him, and reached up to trail his fingers against his cheek, to let them slip down across his chest, his open shirt showing a whole swathe of pale skin, blue veins tracked through beneath the surface, he allowed him to unchecked, couched in self-satisfaction.

"They don't love me," he told him, softly. "They admire me, they fear me, they worship me, they want me, but they do not love me."

Eric's hand turned, vice like grip turning in on Ishida's wrist until he could feel the pulse heavy beneath his fingertips. He could hear it, and he opened his mouth as though he could taste it, the startling appearance of fangs in the hollow darkness of his parted lips.

He imagined himself glowing, his other hand shining as he brought it up to the young man's throat, as he trailed his fingertips against the pulse point there. He imagined sinking his teeth in now, and didn't, instead only leaning in to take a breath, to smell the anxiety and arousal in the sweat at his throat.

"Tell me what you want."

[sequincy]

"But they think they do." He felt sure of that.

Ice clamped over his wrist. Uryuu sounded his dismay, pulling curiously at what he'd mistaken for his frozen limb. Only then did he realize the cold was Eric's hand and Eric's grip on him. There was nothing weak or human in it. Something shattered upstairs; there was a peal of laughter from the unseen crowd. Uryuu remembered where he was.

When he looked past Eric's soft lips and saw twin fangs, sharp and glowing, Uryuu also remembered who he was with.

The remembrance did nothing to abate the sensations stirring in his loins and over his skin, but oh did his pulse jump. Uryuu's glossy eyes flashed behind their lenses, and he felt the small of his back hit the desk. It didn't move, not even when he arched with the fingers grazing over his exposed throat. These, at least, were gentle - reflections of the Northern Lights where Eric's gripping hand was a glacier, icy and immovable. But he could still sense the danger in both.

The movement shifted his loose shirt and, beneath it, the silver chain holding its silver star. A cross, but none that Eric would be familiar with. (When he'd walked in that night, he'd thought it would be too identifying on his wrist; he'd had a cover to keep, for himself and Shikamaru.)

Shikamaru. The drug. Stay cool. Keep focused. Don't get eaten. Think of Shikamaru. Uryuu swallowed - it was difficult for the Quincy to even focus his eyes, much less his thoughts. His pupils were huge and round, watching Eric's muscles shift under his pale, shining skin. There was a deep desire to feel them move under and against him, absorb their power.

"You gave me what I came for," he answered after a moment that stretched on too long. He leaned his head against Eric's to prove he wasn't afraid, but Uryuu imagined he could see shadows shifting behind the vampire. Danger. No, stay calm. Remember Shikamaru.

[manofthenorth]

“Oh yes. Yes, they think they do.” He smiled through his teeth at Uryuu, but held back. There was a silver cross bound about Uryuu’s throat, and it was enough to hold him back from biting – at least from biting there. There were plenty of other prime spots, and he had all the time in the world to take advantage of them.

“And that’s all?” he asked, smiling. “You came to see if you could find a drug. Something popular enough to be sold in every AGI nightclub in the sector. You wanted me to solicit the drugs to you, didn’t you, so that you could prove something to yourself—“ A pause, and he seemed to be listening to something; the sound of Uryuu’s heartbeat. “Or perhaps to the world. Prove that you could rise up against the evil nature of the things that surround you.

“But you forget.” He leered. “We are all of us primitive, all driven by primitive wants and desires, and vampires most of all. What did you expect? This is the truth of the world, down here in the dark. We do not try to hide what we are, nor should we. We are honest, and we may be good, or evil, shallow, tempestuous, passionate. Down here, we have nothing to hide, and that, more than anything, is what excites those that come from the world above with its rules and its deception. We are predators, killers by design, and you knew that when you came.”

He ignored the cross, close to his skin, and instead moved forward until his hips rocked smoothly against Uryuu, until he could tilt and push him back, trapping him against the tabletop. When he got close enough to cross hissed menacingly against the skin of his throat, instantly leaving a mark there that would take sleep or intervention to heal.

“That little bit of silver can’t stop me, but it would let you put up a fight. Do you want to try? Or are you content to…” He nosed against the parting of the shirt, smirking, flicked his tongue out against Uryuu’s nipple. “Enjoy it?”

[sequincy]

"That you're down here with me," Uryuu managed steadily after struggling to surface past his swimming head, "means you do have things to hide." From his followers, certainly, but who else? How many people - vampires or otherwise - knew about this dark basement and this stained table, the steel chains hanging lifeless from the ceiling and walls?

Uryuu suspected that number was low. ...And he hoped Shikamaru wasn't among them.

But Eric was right - he'd come here with a purpose, to prove something, to learn something, and he was rapidly losing sight of that reason amidst everything else there was to learn. He was learning, for example, about what its tendrils, feeling out felt to be shoved up against something by a predator, to feel trapped and thrilled by the trapping. He was learning the nuances of being groin-to-groin with a being that shone like sunlight with power and want. Spirit ribbons coalesced around him before slowly encircling the vampire, wrapping around in curiouthe the vibrant soul before him even as that soul rubbed physically against him. Uryuu squirmed and panted and wondered what it would be like to have the moon for a sun.

Uryuu's eyes widened to see the silver hiss into Eric's skin, a flare of angry red marring the pale, snowy pink. His fingertips brushed the gleaming wound in sympathy, and he let his spirit brush against the vampire's throat. The Quincy Star had burned perfectly; if he hadn't seen it happen, Uryuu would have guessed it was a tattoo.

Already, I've left my mark on you. He wondered what that meant.

There was little time to consider it. His skin flushed and he wrapped his arms around Eric's neck, his knees on jean-covered hips. "I won't - " drugged but passionate, determined, " - let you kill me."

It was, he thought, a fair line to draw.

As for the rest, the Quincy's reiatsu flared as he hugged at Eric's shoulders, trying to yank him into a kiss full of hunger and teeth. The walls glittered; the people above them danced on.

[manofthenorth]

He was a clever boy, even under the effects of V, and it seemed a shame that he would have to wipe his memories of all that happened in the end, but matters had already been decided. Still, there was something delightful about letting the boy think he was in control - at least a little. Something told him he didn't know anything about glamours, and he had no reason to enlighten him yet.

"You think I'm telling you these things because I'm going to kill you?" he asked, still holding out on that kiss, and then he dipped the rest of the way and slid into it, all sharp teeth and blood that was as much his own as Uryuu's, and the boy tasted like liquid electricity, a buzz across the top of his tongue that made him gasp, an utter sweetness to that blood that he had tasted in no creature before, and he had drunk the blood of fairies. If they were sweet, then this was ambrosia, and for a moment he considered just tearing back and plunging his fangs deep into Uryuu's throat, drinking his hearts blood deep and fast, but then he would have a dead man on his hands - and worse, the dead boyfriend of one of his streetrunners. Shikamaru could be glamoured, but if he came to investigate Uryuu's disappearance, there would be no escape, and a good vampire knew when to cut his losses.

So he would instead be delicate, and enjoy the taste but not become drunk on it, and otherwise take what was Shikamaru's in a way that the other man would never discover. Why not, when Uryuu was so very willing?

He broke from the kiss with a sigh, and licked the last of the blood from his lips, savouring it. The mark on his chest healed before Uryuu now, turning to clean, pale skin as quickly as it had burned.

"Do you like being under me, or would you rather--" A quick movement, vampire fast, and he was on his back. He finished: "Be on top? Ah, you like that, don't you? Show me how much."

askdlf ogod how drunk/asleep was I in that last tag...

[sequincy]

"Mmf-" A quick sting on his tongue alerted him to the fangs clicking against his teeth, poking out just past Eric's far too kissable lips. He was aware of blood mingling between their mouths, of the vampire's tongue dipping against his - and of the small pain suddenly flowing away, without reason. The blood stopped - he'd healed somehow.

But this mystery was far less interesting than the body hanging heavy and wanting over him, cold and muscular and making it increasingly difficult to keep his slacks on. His shirt was nearly a lost cause by this point, off his shoulders completely and slipped down to his elbows. He was a ragged, eager mess, glossy-eyed and flushed.

The lips pulled away and Uryuu pulled himself up with them, chasing after the unwanted distance in dismay. His arms tightened, reluctant to let go of so bright a comfort in this dark place. ...And maybe ready to share those lips again. However many hundreds of years Eric had been alive, they had certainly turned him into a fine kisser.

He stared at the healed skin and silently marveled - their kiss had healed them both. ...Or the drug. But the kiss was a drug too, wasn't it? Highly addictive. A stimulant. Uryuu unconsciously mouthed the word.

His world flipped suddenly, and it took Uryuu a moment to realize it was them who had rolled over, not the room. He steadied himself over Eric with hands on his shoulders, feeling at the material of his shirt and pushing it up as he ran clever fingers over contours of muscle. This felt better; he was more in control. Uryuu tilted his head, settling his hips into place over Eric's with languid, rubbing, rocking motions. The chains dangling above them became spirit ribbons - or was it that his spirit ribbons became chains? "You're cocky. Or is it pride? I have a lot of that. That's what I'll show you."

Buttons. He hated buttons. Why were there so many? Uryuu leaned in close to Eric's chest with fiercely narrowed (and terribly distracted) eyes. He pulled buttons free from Eric's shirt in sharp, short motions, and when the last three resisted him, he bent to use his mouth instead.

I often wonder that. =/

[manofthenorth]

Pride. Ah, was that what it was. It was pride, and pride could end a man. It was pride that had brought this boy here, and pride which had inflicted this on him. And if it was pride, then it would bring him back as he tried to piece together the missing parts of his memory. And plenty would be missing; plenty wouldn't add up.

He didn't laugh, but he did smile, and it was still with his fangs drawn, a pair of wicked sharp knives in just as sharp a mouth. He raised his arms up above his head, watching as the dark head dipped down to menace his buttons. The shirt was expensive; and the buttons were beautiful mother of pearl affairs, lost on the floor as the young man wrenched each of them away.

There was predatory satisfaction in his eyes, because Uryuu really was bright and fierce, a creature that had fascinated from the moment he'd stepped in through the door, and kept his attention since. He was splendid rendered to the purpose of destruction, and truly Eric could care less about the shirt. He had plenty of others where that came from.

"Use your nails, your teeth. Try and hurt me--" He leered. "If you can."

[sequincy]

The last button surrendered to the savagery of his teeth, and Uryuu stared down in a glazed and glorious triumph at Eric's exposed chest. The skin pulsed with a silver sheen that he couldn't help but trace his fingers over. Both hands kept him steady as he let them roam and drag against the vampire's skin, and finally the shirt was pulled completely out of the way. (Uryuu assured himself he would offer to fix it later by adding a zipper.)

With his hips settled over Eric's he could lean in close, his necklace dangling dangerously close over the vampire's clavicles and the hollow of his throat. Uryuu placed his hands flat on Eric's shoulders, watching reishi transfer between them in wonder, silver and blue.

"I could take your soul." It was barely murmured, a low breath over nearly closed lips, but not too low for vampiric senses. Uryuu pushed Eric's shirt slowly up his extended arms, the silver cross swaying over the viking's lips, his nose, circling ominously above his brilliant blue eyes and then skimming harmlessly over his hair. The shirt fell to the ground, and Uryuu sat back again, his breathing hard with something other than exertion. "Don't move."

In a sudden motion he hooked his hands into Eric's hips and ground against him, cloth and heat rubbing against each other with scholarly precision. Uryuu's narrowed his eyes to studious slits, rubbing like he was trying to jolt Eric's undead heart into beating again. His tongue darted out and licked his lips. "You have to earn my teeth."

[manofthenorth]

The silver of the cross almost held him down as much as he pretended to be held so. It wasn't normal silver - he'd felt the difference when it burned him - because it had felt so much more draining than that, as though the metal contained something brighter and fiercer than sunlight. He would ask him about it later, he thought. For now it suited his purposes to twist back away from the dangling threat, but if need be it would take no effort at all to reach up and snap Uryuu's neck and so extricate himself from the 'trap'. Suffice was to say that he wouldn't have put himself into the situation if it wasn't possible to get out of it.

And if it gave Uryuu confidence, made him feel powerful, then so be it. The nature of vampires was to fulfil their own hunger, yes, but Eric had learnt over the years that they played another part in the world, satisfied a lust in the human condition for the unknown, for danger, and it was that which he had monopolised on, particularly after coming to America.

Uryuu was particularly agile, Eric thought. Strong, too. It hadn't just been his imagination that there was something strange about him, because when he moved, he moved with the deliberate, conscious elegance of someone who knew full well what they were doing, and possessed the muscle tone to do it. It just wasn't easy to perch on a table and rock his hips so very precisely.

"And how do I earn them?" he asked, eyes glittering, offering Uryuu the chance to draw out the rules.

[sequincy]

Control - no one had offered that to him before. Not likes this. The body under him was bigger, older, full of a strength his muscles would never know... and Eric was offering it to him, playfully. Lighthearted sensuality in the vampire's smile became luminescence in the room, shining off metal and energy and radiating in every direction until Uryuu had to close his eyes against it. He didn't need them anyway. He didn't need any of the limitations that had held him back before.

"...By listening." The V and the drink swirled together through his bloodstream, drew his long fingers down to stroke the white column of Eric's throat, guide his chin back and tease just past his lips. Flirting with his fangs.

Strong. He was so strong. He could feel every soul in this place, suck the spirit particles from the air until they were all left gasping and desperate. Destroy and remake them a thousand times. The Shinigami had been right to fear the Quincy. What do you do with a race stronger than gods of death?

Humming buzzed past his lips without his realizing it, some jaunty, dorky pop song that he would have condemned in the daylight. Two of his fingers pressed further into Eric's mouth, lightly stroking the wet length of his tongue as though it wasn't a tongue at all. All the while his hips moved, slow semi-circles in either direction that rumpled fabric and made his thighs tremble.

"You won't bite," Uryuu hummed matter-of-factly as he bent, long and flexible, to rub his cheek softly against Eric's. It was like rubbing polished ice. "Only if I say so. Do you understand?"