nathaniel_kitten | (no subject)

(no subject)

Nathaniel's been sleeping a lot.

He's not really quite sure how much time has actually passed, but he thinks he remembers seeing Asher awake at least three times. It could have all been in one night, it could have been three different nights. He isn't sure. Any attempt to pull him from blissful sleep has been met with solid resistance and a determined mind to go back to sleep. Save for a handful of bathroom trip and some drinks of water, Nathaniel has simply stayed curled up in bed.

But now, Asher is being insistent. Nathaniel pries his eyes open and looks at his vampire, blinking several times. He swallows, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth, and licks his lips.

"I'm tired," he murmurs, voice husky with sleep.

Tired might have something to do with little food or water and a great big dollop of depression, but he tries not to be bitchy about anything. Nathaniel shifts in bed, drawing his knees up to his chest, and stares at Asher, trying to not think about Anita.

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Asher moans against Nathaniel's throat, his fangs scraping, gently, again and again, finally biting down. He knows he shouldn't take much more, but Nathaniel tastes, smells, feels so very good. He drinks of Nathaniel, winding one hand tight in auburn tresses, squeaking with water as he grips tight, pulls Nathaniel's head back, his neck a taut line against Asher's lips.

Even if he shouldn't take more, Nathaniel does nothing to stop Asher. He likes feeding his vampire, he enjoys the feeling far too much to end it.

The pain of fangs in his flesh causes another soft cry to leave Nathaniel's lips, echo off the tile in the room. He closes his eyes, relishes the pain in his neck and head from his hair being pulled like that. Nathaniel moves as best he can to bring Asher pleasure while his hand continue to pump himself. It all feels wonderful, too good, and Nathaniel lets himself be carrier away on it until he's trembling in Asher's lap, so close to coming that his balls actually ache.

Edited 2009-09-29 11:17 (UTC)

Asher draws away from Nathaniel's neck, panting softly, trembling himself with the need to come.

"I want to feel you," he whispers, brushing his lips against Nathaniel's, punctuating his words with a slow grind of his hips, arching up in the bath, the cooling water lapping at their chests.

Nathaniel opens gray eyes, the blue flecks within them bright as he stares at Asher. He smells his own blood on Asher's breath, can almost taste it in the brush of their lips. His eyes never leave Asher's icy blue gaze, his hand tightening on his cock as he feels his lover move deep. It's a very soft cry that passes between kiss-swollen lips as Nathaniel finally comes, spilling over his hand, into the water, the pleasure of climax overwhelming everything else.

Asher slides his arms around Nathaniel, supporting him, holding him close. The scent of Nathaniel's release, the soft cry, the feel of him in Asher's arms, are too much for him to resist.

Pushing deep into Nathaniel, he muffles a kiss against his leopard's throat, water sloshing over the side of the tub as he trembles and finally lies still.

Nathaniel rests heavily against Asher, his arms wrapped around his vampire's neck, nose buried against perfect skin. He presses lazy kisses to what he can reach without moving his head, eyes closed as he shivers, his heart still racing.

"I think we should take baths more often," Nathaniel murmurs. "I like baths with you."

"I think we would not get very clean," he points out, smiling as he kisses Nathaniel's throat, his shoulder, smoothing hands over wet skin.

"We've been sitting the water enough for me to prune," Nathaniel says. "I think that counts as getting clean, doesn't it?"

Asher laughs.

"Lean back, cher," he whispers, supporting Nathaniel's shoulders as his lover obeys, dropping him back until the water laps around his hairline, covers his ears for a moment. He lifts Nat back up again, reaches for the shampoo, pouring a generous amount in to his palm.

Nathaniel smiles at him, an expression sorely missing over the past few days.

"You're going to wash me now?" he asks, actually surprised.

"If you do not mind," Asher murmurs, coaxing Nathaniel to turn around, gathering a handful of hair and working the shampoo into the long strands.

The loss of Asher within is noted by a disappointed sigh, though it's quickly replaced by soft purring as Asher works the soap through his hair.

"Are sick of me smelling of your shampoo yet?" he asks, smiling at the water. "I should gather up my courage, get dressed, and go fetch my toiletries from Anita's room."

Not that he minds smelling utterly like Asher all the time, quite honestly.

Asher smiles, kneading Nathaniel's scalp with his fingertips.

"I like you smelling of me, mon chat," he murmurs, brushing his lips against the back of Nathaniel's shoulder, slowly working his way down to the ends of Nathaniel's hair, making sure his hair is thoroughly soaped.

"Are you a possessive vampire, then?" Nathaniel purrs, continuing to smile. "Wanting everyone to know just who my Master is?"

Asher growls playfully, sliding his hand up Nathaniel's thigh, rubbing over the scar that he's sure is almost permanent by now.

"Mine," he murmurs, tugging Nathaniel's hair, making him lean back, tilt his head back, as Asher carefully pours cupped handfuls of water over his hair, washing the soap out.

Nathaniel shivers, loving that word on Asher's lips. It's this soul-deep satisfaction that is met in that one word finally uttered by Asher. He likes that scar, likes the matching one slowly forming on his throat as Asher trades off spots he feeds from -- though his vampire always feeds over the old marks, deepening the scars. He loves the rings that always burn slightly in his flesh, reminding him of Asher every moment of his life.

He bares Asher's marks both tangibly and intangibly, and Nathaniel relishes each one.

"Yours," he murmurs, closing his eyes as the shampoo is rinsed from his hair. "Please don't ever change your mind... even if you stop loving me, please keep me, Asher. Please."

Asher stills, sadness in his eyes as he wraps his arms around Nathaniel's waist, pulls him back against his chest.

"Never," he promises. "I will always love you, mon chat." Vampires do not love lightly, and Asher is even more loyal than most of his counterparts. His love is not easily won, but once achieved, nothing can break it.

Closing his eyes, Nathaniel takes that promise to heart. He rests his arms atop Asher's around him, letting out a shaky breath.

"Do you believe me when I say I'll always love you?" he asks, enjoying the strength of Asher's arms around him.

Asher nods, knowing Nathaniel will feel the movement against his hair, his shoulder.

"Come," he murmurs after a while. "We should get out before it grows too cold in here."

Nathaniel takes a moment to rinse his throat of the lingering blood, hissing a little before he finally rises out of the bathtub. He grabs towels for himself and Asher. It takes two towels to wring the water from his hair, and then he wraps a third towel around his waist. It takes a few minutes, Nathaniel humming to himself while Asher dries off, to finger-comb leave-in conditioner into his hair and place a bandage over Asher's bite.

He smiles at his reflection in the mirror, a finger running over the bandage. "I think one of my favorite things to do is feed you," he murmurs.

Asher dries his hair roughly, letting it fall over his shoulders as he walks to stand behind Nathaniel, taking a brush out of the cabinet and quickly combing his hair.

That done, he starts to comb Nathaniel's, utterly unashamed of his nudity.

"I wish I could still give you the pleasure my bite once did," he murmurs.

As if Asher has any reason to be ashamed of his nudity. Nathaniel closes his eyes, adoring the care Asher gives him.

"I didn't feed you because your bite was... amazing. I did it because I liked the closeness I felt with you when you did it." He reaches back to briefly grasp Asher's hip. "Will it always be denied me now, though? Does it ever change?"

Asher shakes his head, frowning as he focuses on Nathaniel's hair.

"If we were to share the fourth mark," he says, slowly and carefully, "the pleasure of my bite would be restored." He doesn't want to share any more marks, not yet. Sharing more means Nathaniel knowing more about him, means them baring their souls, their memories, almost completely.

Nathaniel hears that careful tone, and his face flushes.

"That's not something you'd want," he says, trying very hard to sound as neutral as can be.

"Give us time to settle into the second mark," Asher murmurs, trying to apologise without actually apologising.

"It is not because of you that I do not want it," he continues.