Brian the Vampire
Thanks so much to whoever gave me more paid LJ time! I hope you are not disappointed that I have made Brian into a vampire. If it's any consolation, I really don't plan to do it again, and I do plan to write more Joke this weekend.
I can't believe that seperis managed to get me to write a vampire cutting porn snippet, but
"But Daphne, I need to talk to him!" Justin paced back and forth in front of Daphne's bed and white lacquer furniture; Daphne sat on the bed clutching a pink lace pillow to her chest and frowning.
"Forget about him," she counseled, but her words didn't penetrate. Neither did Michael's when Justin poked his head into Woody's, nor Deb's when he checked at the diner.
And Justin might not know Brian very well, Justin thought acidly toward Michael, but he knew that Brian had wanted him once, and he knew what Brian had wanted. And he could give that to him again, he thought, swearing as the razor cut his thumb, too. He hadn't wanted to cut his thumb, but he'd been kind of startled by how much the thin line on his upper arm had fucking *hurt.*
He'd gotten scrapes climbing trees as a kid and shit, and he'd nicked his face shaving even when his mother scolded him that he didn't need to, but this hurt more than he ever imagined it could, and he swore, letting the blood drip slowly to the pavement, imagining that perhaps he too could smell it in the air, on the breeze that ruffled a few dead leaves and a paper cup at the end of the alley, the breeze that carried sounds of moaning men.
He'd known that Brian would come, and he'd been watching the end of the alley, clutching a towel on his arm and waiting.
There wasn't a speck of movement in the alley, and suddenly Brian was standing right in front of him, and Justin wondered if he'd dropped silently off the roof, or if the stories about bats were true, except he hadn't seen a bat, either.
Justin blinked once, in surprise, and then couldn't help a smug smile from forming--so there, Michael. Brian didn't pay the slightest bit of attention to his face, but immediately grabbed his arm and twisted it up into the air, ripping the towel away with his other hand. Justin swore, because that reopened the cut and started the flow of blood again and fucking hurt.
Brian stared at the cut, fascinated, then licked it tentatively, and Justin shivered, and was suddenly unimaginably hard, and he knew that touching the inside of his arm was going to make him hard now for the rest of his life.
"Brian," Justin said, but then Brian licked his arm again, his tongue trailing slowly over the sting of the cut, and it came out as a low moan.
Making noise seemed to capture Brian's attention and remind him that Justin was actually here, and Brian pulled his mouth away from Justin's arm to look at his eyes. Justin reached his free hand down to adjust his dick in his pants, but Brian caught it without even looking, slapping it away. "Brian," Justin began again, but he got the impression that Brian didn't really want to talk, because when he opened his mouth, Brian leaned and kissed him.
Justin could taste his blood on Brian's lips, he could fucking feel the blood dripping down his arm and trailing to his armpit, and somehow now both his hands were pinned above his head, two wrists clasped tightly in the fingers of Brian's right hand. Brian's left trailed down to his pants, resting lightly over his crotch, and Justin tore his head away from Brian's lips to try to get his attention again.
"Brian," he said a third time. Twisting his head to the side to evade Brian's lips backfired, though, because it exposed his neck, which Brian was now eyeing intently, and Justin wasn't sure how comfortable he was with that--he could feel his heart pounding, hell, Brian's head was cocked as though he could *hear* Justin's heart pounding, and Brian's lips moved closer to his skin, not licking, not biting, not even touching, just close, so fucking close, and he should have been able to feel Brian's breath except he couldn't because it wasn't fucking there, and Brian grasped his dick tightly through his pants, and Justin came, and missed the exact moment when Brian's teeth sunk in.
I can't believe that seperis managed to get me to write a vampire cutting porn snippet, but
"But Daphne, I need to talk to him!" Justin paced back and forth in front of Daphne's bed and white lacquer furniture; Daphne sat on the bed clutching a pink lace pillow to her chest and frowning.
"Forget about him," she counseled, but her words didn't penetrate. Neither did Michael's when Justin poked his head into Woody's, nor Deb's when he checked at the diner.
And Justin might not know Brian very well, Justin thought acidly toward Michael, but he knew that Brian had wanted him once, and he knew what Brian had wanted. And he could give that to him again, he thought, swearing as the razor cut his thumb, too. He hadn't wanted to cut his thumb, but he'd been kind of startled by how much the thin line on his upper arm had fucking *hurt.*
He'd gotten scrapes climbing trees as a kid and shit, and he'd nicked his face shaving even when his mother scolded him that he didn't need to, but this hurt more than he ever imagined it could, and he swore, letting the blood drip slowly to the pavement, imagining that perhaps he too could smell it in the air, on the breeze that ruffled a few dead leaves and a paper cup at the end of the alley, the breeze that carried sounds of moaning men.
He'd known that Brian would come, and he'd been watching the end of the alley, clutching a towel on his arm and waiting.
There wasn't a speck of movement in the alley, and suddenly Brian was standing right in front of him, and Justin wondered if he'd dropped silently off the roof, or if the stories about bats were true, except he hadn't seen a bat, either.
Justin blinked once, in surprise, and then couldn't help a smug smile from forming--so there, Michael. Brian didn't pay the slightest bit of attention to his face, but immediately grabbed his arm and twisted it up into the air, ripping the towel away with his other hand. Justin swore, because that reopened the cut and started the flow of blood again and fucking hurt.
Brian stared at the cut, fascinated, then licked it tentatively, and Justin shivered, and was suddenly unimaginably hard, and he knew that touching the inside of his arm was going to make him hard now for the rest of his life.
"Brian," Justin said, but then Brian licked his arm again, his tongue trailing slowly over the sting of the cut, and it came out as a low moan.
Making noise seemed to capture Brian's attention and remind him that Justin was actually here, and Brian pulled his mouth away from Justin's arm to look at his eyes. Justin reached his free hand down to adjust his dick in his pants, but Brian caught it without even looking, slapping it away. "Brian," Justin began again, but he got the impression that Brian didn't really want to talk, because when he opened his mouth, Brian leaned and kissed him.
Justin could taste his blood on Brian's lips, he could fucking feel the blood dripping down his arm and trailing to his armpit, and somehow now both his hands were pinned above his head, two wrists clasped tightly in the fingers of Brian's right hand. Brian's left trailed down to his pants, resting lightly over his crotch, and Justin tore his head away from Brian's lips to try to get his attention again.
"Brian," he said a third time. Twisting his head to the side to evade Brian's lips backfired, though, because it exposed his neck, which Brian was now eyeing intently, and Justin wasn't sure how comfortable he was with that--he could feel his heart pounding, hell, Brian's head was cocked as though he could *hear* Justin's heart pounding, and Brian's lips moved closer to his skin, not licking, not biting, not even touching, just close, so fucking close, and he should have been able to feel Brian's breath except he couldn't because it wasn't fucking there, and Brian grasped his dick tightly through his pants, and Justin came, and missed the exact moment when Brian's teeth sunk in.