VAMP!SLASH
Posting HERE first. I think it's the best I've written so far- which is weird because I usually hate everything I write.
Title: Papercut
Author: blowjobsalways
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: OMGODIZZLE. I wrote Billie/Mike. It makes me all tingly inside.
Notes/Warnings: *cough* vamp!Mike *cough*. It's quite a kinky little bastard of a fic. Might turn it into a series, since I've got plans for it, but that depends of if I can make the other parts- you know... not suck...
Dedications: um... brain_stew_4, because I said I would, and anyone who reads or comments I guess.
Eyes travelled over him. But he was used to it. Eyes were always on him, on his body, on his ass, even with his own band mates. Sighing, the will to forget about it strong, he flipped the page, preparing to get lost in the words again.
“OW Jesus fuck!”
Billie swore under his breath, tossing his hand to the side and dropping his brand new copy of “1984”. The hardcover landed noisily on the tour bus floor beside his couch.
Mike, as soon as he concluded Billie hadn’t lost any limbs, raised an eyebrow in question.
“Paper cut,” Billie explained, popping his finger into his mouth. He did not sense the lust flaring up on the other couch. Mike became, in several senses, predatory, and slid to his feet. “But it’s a bleeder- I swear.” He stopped suckling the wound to look at the flesh in more detail; to see exactly where the skin had been pierced enough to bleed. Bony, tough fingers curled around his wrist.
“Let me,” came a low, hungry hiss. Billie shuddered as the words travelled over his body. Not only had Mike sounded dominant and horny as hell, but he also sounded… inhuman. The smaller man gazed up in time to see his finger disappear between thin strong lips and pointed teeth. He would have thought on it, had his head not be wiped clean. Inside Mike’s warm mouth, a tongue dabbed and sucked the tiny finger, inch by inch as it slid in; a scaled down imitation of the pleasure, of what he really wanted.
The waves of electric chills seized Billie’s body in a rigid standstill, gasping like a virgin, cock hard and ready- a victim of the current.
“Ohhhhh…” he sighed in a decrescendo until he was whispering, exhaling, then not breathing at all. Another trailing gasp and his lungs filled again. “Oh god… fuuuuuuuck…”
With a barely audible slurp, Mike slid the finger out of his mouth. It was wet with saliva, and still held in front of his face. He watched hauntingly. Tiny bits of blood seeped out and leafed out, swimming in the indents of Billie’s fingerprint, dissolving majestically in the moisture.
Billie whimpered and twitched his arm, hinting that maybe it was time for Mike to let go of it now. But the bassists grip on his wrist merely tightened, and fuck, he was kinda hot looking so focused like that.
Then, as if it had never left, Billie’s index finger was yanked back into Mike’s mouth with fierce rekindling. Only this time, Billie felt the wound drain, saw his lover swallow hungrily, and then come up from his trance.
“Strip. Now,” was uttered, as Billie was given his hand back. He twisted it loosely, for it was beginning to feel a bit numb. It had stopped bleeding however. He shuddered to reflect on that anymore; he’d known for a while what had happened, how it had changed Mike. Shakily, but not (very) afraid, Billie let his clothing fall to the floor, piece by piece.
By the time he was done, Mike too glowed naked in the pale light of the street lamps outside. Billie regarded him as mystical, save an eager cock jutting from a thin patch of hair that distorted the image- along with a reassuring grin. Complete with a pair of white fangs.
He met Billie and wove lusting hands through the boy’s hair. Billie’s hand reached up to touch his own neck, and the rushing, healthy vein underneath in gesture.
“M-Mikey?”
Mike drew his lover in close and held him against his chest. Billie folded his arms in so that his fingers still danced under his jaw line. Mike heaved a gruff, content, deep breath and replied:
“Yeah?”
Billie’s eyes took in the darkness of being so close to Mike’s skin, then closed, lashes fluttering.
“Are you going to… to take me? Make me like you?”
Mike nodded solemnly. Pressing on his lover’s shoulders, he eased the smaller man onto the couch, reached to switch off to lights, and then joined Billie in the thick cushions. Finding full pink lips easily in the dark, the bassist did his submissive in with a snakelike kiss. Breaths hissed and tongues slithered, one with supernatural lust, and the other with a struggling, failing, mesmerized retaliation. Billie was drowning. He’s going to do it. Oh god.
When confronted with such overwhelming matters, Billie knew himself to almost always resort to emotional infancy- be it jumping up in a tiny flurry of fists or shifting all his dependence to one person, taking on the role of a lost child.
He was doing the latter, because he knew after tonight, he’d never be the same. He was lost in the water. And now he figured he’d be walking on the ocean floor for the rest of his life.
Mike fluidly eased on top of his lover, the two-pointed mark on his own neck catching in a moving beam of light as someone’s car passed near the window.
“Because you love me,” Mike bit out, attempting to make Billie understand why he was doing this- why it was really a good thing. But Billie looked half dead, eyes closed. He was wrapped in a nervous calm, shivering as he tried to comprehend. Mike brushed his temple, as if trying to pass on his own understanding, but no luck. Billie was hovering between crying, screaming, and kissing. He was trusting.
Billie whimpered and had to stop himself from shrinking from the touch. Mike silently stuck a lubricated finger into him, then two, then three, but the smaller man bit his lip and didn’t make a sound.
“Billie…” Mike pleaded. “You have no idea how good this will feel… please…”
The singer could never say no when Mike played the “please” card. Even when he knew his best friend was planning to suck off something other than his cock.
Billie muttered incomprehensibly and relaxed in the pillows and sheets. His warm body glowed at Mike’s touch, and then, the air became thick. Mike held onto his hips lightly, and slid his now slicked length into Billie; not slow, not fast, just euphoric.
“Oh holy shit!” Billie gasped, moaned, received Mike eagerly. He gripped at the man’s shoulders; it felt as if heaven and sweet, sweet hell were moving inside of him. His prostate was a pleasure centre- Mike massaged it gently- a centre that radiated to seize his whole body. He wouldn’t be surprised if his lover sprouted wings.
Mike began again. He fell into a soft, undulating rhythm. The man beneath him was his, captured. And yet he himself could not stop if he tried. He hadn’t planned for it to feel, to grasp him like this. Then again, he’d never taken anyone- not like he was about to anyway. No, Billie was the first, and probably last person he intended to consume.
Mike continued, even now, second thoughts tugged at him. I want this. He’ll want this.
And Billie’s warm body, combined with sweet moans and eyes blinded with lust tugged back. And fuck, why was he thinking about it when he could feel such tightness? When he could fuck someone beautiful and all his own? When he could have Billie?
Billie stifled a delighted scream. Yes, Mike’s fangs looked so inviting right now. He let the larger man continue; actually, more like it, begged him never, ever to cease. Another round of “don’t you fucking stop Mike please…!”, and Mike slowed a bit. Everything else went on stand-still.
“Bill, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. Crept along the singer’s cheek were gentle, long fingers. Mike bent his head low and pressed his lips to Billie’s open, exposed, neck. To him, it was a fucking gold mine. And suddenly, for Mike at least, the pause was over, and he quickened once more, moving his lover, taking him away from the tortures of being human.
Billie attempted to stop all movement but he was lost to some unforeseen strength his lover had suddenly possessed. Strong intentions, and a punishing beat kept him pinned, a prisoner of his own pleasure. Mixed feelings plagued his writhing body. For, no matter how much he could ever want Mike to stop, this still felt good. Inhumanly good.
What was a few kisses morphed into a nibble. A tease, or a preview, Billie wondered. Until he remembered thinking was stupid. He knew what was going to happen. He sort of…wanted it.
“I love you,” he gasped, possessed by some desperate emotion. It was both a last resort and a go-ahead. So Mike breathed once and pierced his lover in more ways than one.
There was pain, yes, it was all the same kind of pain too, no matter how laced with (some kind of un-dead) bliss it poured into him- but it was his own perception of it the sent him over the edge.
Not just shards of white, but streaming torrents of it poured in spread over Billie’s skin, and then deeper. Dimly aware of the scream he was producing, he arched into Mike’s grasp. The bassist slid a hand around the back of his neck, to hold him in place.
The pleasure spread, now rushing in from his lower half, for Mike was fucking him through the cushions. At the thought, the blacked-haired boys legs spread more, desperate. He reached a hand down to pump himself- trying in vain to match Mike’s rhythm. The pleasure he gave himself wasn’t nearly like the infinite sources of light and fire Mike had pushed him too, but it was enough of a catalyst.
For he’d thought this had been the best orgasm of his life, until, like a dull ringing in the ears suddenly intensifying, his bliss reared up and seized him. Impossible to be still, he would’ve been a thrashing, violent creature, being bitten and transformed, had his lover not the strength to hold him down.
Yes, Mike was more than strong enough to keep Billie from wriggling away; it was control of his own body he was loosing. Teeth still imbedded in delicious flesh, he was feeding. Billie's blood, however immoral this was, was utopian. It coursed through him. He was suckling, feeding. And Fucking. At the same time, and god bless whatever gave him this idea in the first place. Harder, oh god, harder, because he was about to-
Moans morphed into yells, and joined the scream from the man beneath. The voices blended until they reached oblivion.
Billie was lazy waking up. He had no obligation to rush if he never remembered falling asleep in the first place. Although he guessed he’d actually just passed out; it didn’t look like much time had passed. Mike was still on him, staring intently. He didn’t feel much different- not at first anyway.
“Billie- you have to drink from me.”
“I don’t feel like suck- wait what?”
“I took too much- unbalanced your blood flow. You need to drink.”
Mike purposefully glanced to the side, by which he exposed his own neck for Billie to take. And holy shit- it looked good… disturbingly good.
“You do that?- feed off other-”
“More than we feel we have to take humans, we feel the need to feed others of our kind to stay balanced. It’s kind of a bonding thing. Very sexual. And kinky.”
“Cool.”
“Yup.”
Somehow, his lover saying ‘yup’ didn’t really ruin the mood. Hell, what he done was so good, he was considering not even calling it sex at all. He sat up weakly and put his mouth to the vein-
“I love you too,” Mike said, a hinting of fear in his voice. Or rather, since fear was totally unnecessary, a hint of paranoia. Billie smiled against his lover’s skin, showing off his new set of fangs for the first time.
Quesions, Comments, Pr0n, Constructive criticism welcome...
Title: Papercut
Author: blowjobsalways
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: OMGODIZZLE. I wrote Billie/Mike. It makes me all tingly inside.
Notes/Warnings: *cough* vamp!Mike *cough*. It's quite a kinky little bastard of a fic. Might turn it into a series, since I've got plans for it, but that depends of if I can make the other parts- you know... not suck...
Dedications: um... brain_stew_4, because I said I would, and anyone who reads or comments I guess.
Eyes travelled over him. But he was used to it. Eyes were always on him, on his body, on his ass, even with his own band mates. Sighing, the will to forget about it strong, he flipped the page, preparing to get lost in the words again.
“OW Jesus fuck!”
Billie swore under his breath, tossing his hand to the side and dropping his brand new copy of “1984”. The hardcover landed noisily on the tour bus floor beside his couch.
Mike, as soon as he concluded Billie hadn’t lost any limbs, raised an eyebrow in question.
“Paper cut,” Billie explained, popping his finger into his mouth. He did not sense the lust flaring up on the other couch. Mike became, in several senses, predatory, and slid to his feet. “But it’s a bleeder- I swear.” He stopped suckling the wound to look at the flesh in more detail; to see exactly where the skin had been pierced enough to bleed. Bony, tough fingers curled around his wrist.
“Let me,” came a low, hungry hiss. Billie shuddered as the words travelled over his body. Not only had Mike sounded dominant and horny as hell, but he also sounded… inhuman. The smaller man gazed up in time to see his finger disappear between thin strong lips and pointed teeth. He would have thought on it, had his head not be wiped clean. Inside Mike’s warm mouth, a tongue dabbed and sucked the tiny finger, inch by inch as it slid in; a scaled down imitation of the pleasure, of what he really wanted.
The waves of electric chills seized Billie’s body in a rigid standstill, gasping like a virgin, cock hard and ready- a victim of the current.
“Ohhhhh…” he sighed in a decrescendo until he was whispering, exhaling, then not breathing at all. Another trailing gasp and his lungs filled again. “Oh god… fuuuuuuuck…”
With a barely audible slurp, Mike slid the finger out of his mouth. It was wet with saliva, and still held in front of his face. He watched hauntingly. Tiny bits of blood seeped out and leafed out, swimming in the indents of Billie’s fingerprint, dissolving majestically in the moisture.
Billie whimpered and twitched his arm, hinting that maybe it was time for Mike to let go of it now. But the bassists grip on his wrist merely tightened, and fuck, he was kinda hot looking so focused like that.
Then, as if it had never left, Billie’s index finger was yanked back into Mike’s mouth with fierce rekindling. Only this time, Billie felt the wound drain, saw his lover swallow hungrily, and then come up from his trance.
“Strip. Now,” was uttered, as Billie was given his hand back. He twisted it loosely, for it was beginning to feel a bit numb. It had stopped bleeding however. He shuddered to reflect on that anymore; he’d known for a while what had happened, how it had changed Mike. Shakily, but not (very) afraid, Billie let his clothing fall to the floor, piece by piece.
By the time he was done, Mike too glowed naked in the pale light of the street lamps outside. Billie regarded him as mystical, save an eager cock jutting from a thin patch of hair that distorted the image- along with a reassuring grin. Complete with a pair of white fangs.
He met Billie and wove lusting hands through the boy’s hair. Billie’s hand reached up to touch his own neck, and the rushing, healthy vein underneath in gesture.
“M-Mikey?”
Mike drew his lover in close and held him against his chest. Billie folded his arms in so that his fingers still danced under his jaw line. Mike heaved a gruff, content, deep breath and replied:
“Yeah?”
Billie’s eyes took in the darkness of being so close to Mike’s skin, then closed, lashes fluttering.
“Are you going to… to take me? Make me like you?”
Mike nodded solemnly. Pressing on his lover’s shoulders, he eased the smaller man onto the couch, reached to switch off to lights, and then joined Billie in the thick cushions. Finding full pink lips easily in the dark, the bassist did his submissive in with a snakelike kiss. Breaths hissed and tongues slithered, one with supernatural lust, and the other with a struggling, failing, mesmerized retaliation. Billie was drowning. He’s going to do it. Oh god.
When confronted with such overwhelming matters, Billie knew himself to almost always resort to emotional infancy- be it jumping up in a tiny flurry of fists or shifting all his dependence to one person, taking on the role of a lost child.
He was doing the latter, because he knew after tonight, he’d never be the same. He was lost in the water. And now he figured he’d be walking on the ocean floor for the rest of his life.
Mike fluidly eased on top of his lover, the two-pointed mark on his own neck catching in a moving beam of light as someone’s car passed near the window.
“Because you love me,” Mike bit out, attempting to make Billie understand why he was doing this- why it was really a good thing. But Billie looked half dead, eyes closed. He was wrapped in a nervous calm, shivering as he tried to comprehend. Mike brushed his temple, as if trying to pass on his own understanding, but no luck. Billie was hovering between crying, screaming, and kissing. He was trusting.
Billie whimpered and had to stop himself from shrinking from the touch. Mike silently stuck a lubricated finger into him, then two, then three, but the smaller man bit his lip and didn’t make a sound.
“Billie…” Mike pleaded. “You have no idea how good this will feel… please…”
The singer could never say no when Mike played the “please” card. Even when he knew his best friend was planning to suck off something other than his cock.
Billie muttered incomprehensibly and relaxed in the pillows and sheets. His warm body glowed at Mike’s touch, and then, the air became thick. Mike held onto his hips lightly, and slid his now slicked length into Billie; not slow, not fast, just euphoric.
“Oh holy shit!” Billie gasped, moaned, received Mike eagerly. He gripped at the man’s shoulders; it felt as if heaven and sweet, sweet hell were moving inside of him. His prostate was a pleasure centre- Mike massaged it gently- a centre that radiated to seize his whole body. He wouldn’t be surprised if his lover sprouted wings.
Mike began again. He fell into a soft, undulating rhythm. The man beneath him was his, captured. And yet he himself could not stop if he tried. He hadn’t planned for it to feel, to grasp him like this. Then again, he’d never taken anyone- not like he was about to anyway. No, Billie was the first, and probably last person he intended to consume.
Mike continued, even now, second thoughts tugged at him. I want this. He’ll want this.
And Billie’s warm body, combined with sweet moans and eyes blinded with lust tugged back. And fuck, why was he thinking about it when he could feel such tightness? When he could fuck someone beautiful and all his own? When he could have Billie?
Billie stifled a delighted scream. Yes, Mike’s fangs looked so inviting right now. He let the larger man continue; actually, more like it, begged him never, ever to cease. Another round of “don’t you fucking stop Mike please…!”, and Mike slowed a bit. Everything else went on stand-still.
“Bill, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. Crept along the singer’s cheek were gentle, long fingers. Mike bent his head low and pressed his lips to Billie’s open, exposed, neck. To him, it was a fucking gold mine. And suddenly, for Mike at least, the pause was over, and he quickened once more, moving his lover, taking him away from the tortures of being human.
Billie attempted to stop all movement but he was lost to some unforeseen strength his lover had suddenly possessed. Strong intentions, and a punishing beat kept him pinned, a prisoner of his own pleasure. Mixed feelings plagued his writhing body. For, no matter how much he could ever want Mike to stop, this still felt good. Inhumanly good.
What was a few kisses morphed into a nibble. A tease, or a preview, Billie wondered. Until he remembered thinking was stupid. He knew what was going to happen. He sort of…wanted it.
“I love you,” he gasped, possessed by some desperate emotion. It was both a last resort and a go-ahead. So Mike breathed once and pierced his lover in more ways than one.
There was pain, yes, it was all the same kind of pain too, no matter how laced with (some kind of un-dead) bliss it poured into him- but it was his own perception of it the sent him over the edge.
Not just shards of white, but streaming torrents of it poured in spread over Billie’s skin, and then deeper. Dimly aware of the scream he was producing, he arched into Mike’s grasp. The bassist slid a hand around the back of his neck, to hold him in place.
The pleasure spread, now rushing in from his lower half, for Mike was fucking him through the cushions. At the thought, the blacked-haired boys legs spread more, desperate. He reached a hand down to pump himself- trying in vain to match Mike’s rhythm. The pleasure he gave himself wasn’t nearly like the infinite sources of light and fire Mike had pushed him too, but it was enough of a catalyst.
For he’d thought this had been the best orgasm of his life, until, like a dull ringing in the ears suddenly intensifying, his bliss reared up and seized him. Impossible to be still, he would’ve been a thrashing, violent creature, being bitten and transformed, had his lover not the strength to hold him down.
Yes, Mike was more than strong enough to keep Billie from wriggling away; it was control of his own body he was loosing. Teeth still imbedded in delicious flesh, he was feeding. Billie's blood, however immoral this was, was utopian. It coursed through him. He was suckling, feeding. And Fucking. At the same time, and god bless whatever gave him this idea in the first place. Harder, oh god, harder, because he was about to-
Moans morphed into yells, and joined the scream from the man beneath. The voices blended until they reached oblivion.
Billie was lazy waking up. He had no obligation to rush if he never remembered falling asleep in the first place. Although he guessed he’d actually just passed out; it didn’t look like much time had passed. Mike was still on him, staring intently. He didn’t feel much different- not at first anyway.
“Billie- you have to drink from me.”
“I don’t feel like suck- wait what?”
“I took too much- unbalanced your blood flow. You need to drink.”
Mike purposefully glanced to the side, by which he exposed his own neck for Billie to take. And holy shit- it looked good… disturbingly good.
“You do that?- feed off other-”
“More than we feel we have to take humans, we feel the need to feed others of our kind to stay balanced. It’s kind of a bonding thing. Very sexual. And kinky.”
“Cool.”
“Yup.”
Somehow, his lover saying ‘yup’ didn’t really ruin the mood. Hell, what he done was so good, he was considering not even calling it sex at all. He sat up weakly and put his mouth to the vein-
“I love you too,” Mike said, a hinting of fear in his voice. Or rather, since fear was totally unnecessary, a hint of paranoia. Billie smiled against his lover’s skin, showing off his new set of fangs for the first time.
Quesions, Comments, Pr0n, Constructive criticism welcome...