It was too late to argue. Aurelian knew that look and that tone of voice. Sam wouldn't be denied. And if allowed, there was nothing Aurelian wouldn't give him.
Even this. Especially this.
"You're no longer scared," he whispered. Sam shook his head.
"What's there to be scared of? You want me to... drink from you. I want to do it. Sounds ok to me." He grinned. "Too much talking, ok? You want me to bite you?" He almost sounded like he was teasing.
"Your teeth aren't sharp enough. Let me." Aurelian climbed out of bed, went into the bathroom, and returned with a straight razor. He stood next to the bed, testing the edge of the blade with his thumb, watching Sam watching him. Sam's face was expectant, yearning. No fear.
"Hurry up," Sam said, urgency in his voice. In answer, Aurelian silently drew the razorblade across his skin, under his collarbone, over his heart. A thin trail of blood appeared, dark against pale flesh. Sam stared. Aurelian dropped the blade on the bedside table, ran his finger over the welling cut, and slowly licked the tip.
"Come," he said hoarsely, beckoning.
And Sam came.
Sliding across the bed, over the side, feet on the floor, stand... mouth drawn to the blood oozing from Aurelian's chest. Who'd've thought vampires would bleed like humans? They looked human, but they so clearly weren't.... Sam didn't think. Couldn't think. Just wanted.
Blood calling to blood, and the memory of Aurelian sucking on his hand, and things he couldn't put words to, and he was still staring, transfixed.
Move. Move.
And a good thing Aurelian was taller, because Sam didn't have to slouch much, just bend his head, press his lips to Aurelian's torn skin, and blood on his tongue like wine or melted chocolate, but thicker, richer. Like nothing he'd ever tasted.
It wasn't cold, Aurelian's blood. Sam had expected it to be cold. It was thick and smooth and sharp, almost peppery. Sam had tasted his own blood before - cut your finger, stick it in your mouth, swallow - it was something like that, but more. He couldn't describe it.
Aurelian's hands on his shoulders, holding him close, holding him up. His own hands on Aurelian's ribcage, his lips and tongue fastened on cool dry skin. No thoughts, no words, but his head full of sound.
It was song, the blood. Complex. Multi-track. A steady throbbing bass line threaded through with electric melody, holding up deep-throated horns and sprinkled with a sharp, pointed snare. Slow and low, taking its time but urgent all the same. And a voice, or something like a voice, stuttering and moaning and rising and falling - the sound of Sam's own desire, climbing above the beating of his heart.
He felt strong. He felt sure. The way he felt sometimes, with Aurelian, skin to skin, heat bleeding from human to vampire, a chill flowing back to keep the fire from consuming him - and sometimes, one inside the other, it didn't matter, but Sam felt as if he could go forever, rising and falling and never stopping. As he felt now. As the blood made him feel.
And still, Aurelian's hands on his shoulders, moans outside Sam's head, dropping from the vampire's lips to land in his hair, and still he drank, sucking greedily, feeling that strength all through his body, over his skin and around his cock, power and pressure and holy Jesus he was hard, like a steady hand caressing him, but it was only the blood in his throat and the song in his head, horns weaving around the bass, the voice going quiet. There was no perceptible buildup, the climax was too far off.
Forever. He could do this forever. Music in his head, his mouth on Aurelian's skin, Aurelian's hands now in his hair, and nothing between them.
He'd never been so close. He was inside Aurelian who was at the same time inside him, farther and deeper than the times he'd straddled the vampire and ridden him until he thought he'd break; Sam was so full of Aurelian he thought he might explode, and still he drank.
This is what it must be like, he thought distantly. Turning someone. No wonder he wanted it.
Sam's mouth stayed fixed to Aurelian's skin, but his hands traveled down the vampire's bare back to cup his ass, pulling his hips close. Hip to hip and they ground together, moaning in concert, hands mirroring hands, cocks straining against cotton, and now the song in Sam's head changed, increased in tempo, the bass more vibration than sound, a saxophone line that was his own body's response emerging on top, and piano suddenly, heavy, pounding piano that must represent Aurelian's blood. Jesus Christ, he was going to come.
He was going to come, going to climax without even having been touched. From the first contact of Sam's lips on his skin, Sam's tongue probing the cut he'd made, Aurelian's skin tightened and loosened, rippling over his bones like water. Again his awareness had narrowed and sharpened until there was nothing in the universe but the two of them, Sam's mouth on his skin and Sam's shoulders under his hands.
And My god, Aurelian thought, my god, it was never like this.
He'd bled for humans before, he'd bled for vampires, he'd even bled for a girl who claimed to be a daughter of the fey. But he'd never bled for a human he loved the way he loved Sam, and that made all the difference. It was more than physical, it was emotional as well, something he'd always known and had used to his advantage in the past, but this time - for the first time - he fully realized what it meant.
His eyes closed, his head dropped back, he couldn't stop the sounds pulling out of his throat. Needy, ecstatic sounds, and then he was begging Sam not to stop even though Sam hadn't given any indication that he ever planned to. Aurelian was inside the boy, his entire being surrounded and squeezed and pressed on every side by warm human flesh. That was the power of the blood, the power and the temptation, because he would easily let Sam drain him dry, if it were possible, just to feel that sensation, the constantly increasing pleasure, straining towards a distant mind-shattering climax.
"Oh dear god," he gasped, hips moving in time with the suction of Sam's mouth, the ache in his cock unbearable. "Caro mio...."
A twist of shoulders, of arms, and Sam turned away from the bed, pushed Aurelian back onto it. He was still standing. Blood on his lips, dripping down his chin. He smiled. Blood on his teeth.
And then hands dragging at Aurelian's pajama bottoms, freeing his erection, and for a brief moment Sam froze, again transfixed, wanting nothing more than to put his mouth on it, suck on it as he had sucked on Aurelian's chest, feel the vampire moaning and jerking under his hands, and then his gaze traveled up to Aurelian's face, eyes dark with lust, and Sam remembered how close he'd felt. How far inside each other they'd been, how strong the blood made him. The music in his head had changed again, was no longer really song, just a deep thrumming bassline. The piano had stilled, the horns had stilled, the snare and the electric melody.
Aurelian seemed to... quiver, waiting. Wanting.
Sam yanked on the drawer of the bedside table so hard that things inside it jumped out onto the floor. Pulled off his boxers and his eyes locked with Aurelian's, felt around inside the drawer until he found what he needed, and then he climbed on the bed, straddling the vampire, and paused.
He licked his lips, slowly, licked his teeth, wiped the blood off his chin with his hand and licked that. A thrill traveled down his throat and spread into his belly, following the last drops of blood, and he smiled again.
"Don't wanna stop," he whispered breathlessly. "Wanna fuck you 'til the end of time."
"Why are you waiting?" Aurelian rasped, hands closing on Sam's thighs. Sam shook his head.
"Don't know.... Wanna be inside." Remembered the tube in his hands, gnawed the cap off with his teeth, squirted, slathered. The air was hot and close. In the back of his throat Sam could still taste blood, could still taste Aurelian on his tongue.
He was strong. He was powerful. He was hard and he was ready. He settled his knees firmly into the blankets, grabbed Aurelian's hips, rolled him over. Sam bent down and ran his tongue up Aurelian's spine, starting from the crack of his ass and traveling to the space between his shoulderblades. Aurelian shuddered beneath him, twisted and moaned.
Sam tossed the tube off the bed, traced the curves of Aurelian's pale pale butt with a slippery finger, and slowly, excruciatingly slowly, pushed himself inside.
Sam was drawing it out, Aurelian knew, because he believed himself inexhaustible. The blood made him feel so. But the suspense was maddening. He clenched the blankets as Sam filled him, pushing farther and farther in, farther than Aurelian would ever have thought possible. Sam's hands on his hips, Sam's body rocking and bouncing, and oh god, oh god, he knew it wouldn't last, could have told Sam from the start - it felt like forever, felt like it could continue forever, but it couldn't. All things came to an end, eventually.
They climaxed at the same time, both crying out in something like harmony,
and the music in Sam's head crashed into silence as his back arched and he stiffened and spasmed uncontrollably, coming and coming until it hurt, he never imagined a human being could possibly have so much spunk in him, he wouldn't be surprised if he was coming blood,
and Aurelian practically humped the bed, soaking the blankets and sobbing with release, and relief.
And then it was silent.
And it was over.
