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

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?"