Happy birthday fic!
Happy birthday teh_kittykat! I know that since it's technically after midnight I'm a day late with this, but better late than never, right? And I wrote something that I know think hope you will enjoy. And now... with no further delays...
Title: To the victor...
Fandom: Petshop of Horrors
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Papa D x Vesca Howell
Archive: Ask and ye shall be as gods receive
Warning: male/male sex, bondage, interesting uses of chocolate sauce, profanity, PWP
Spoilers: Very mild Petshop of Horrors spoilers. And perhaps mild spoilers for events in Same Words, Different Situation which have yet to happen
The Count woke to the sound of soft humming. He recognized the tune. He knew he did. It was a lullaby. In fact, it was the only lullaby that Vesca knew. And the only reason the Count knew that was because on the very rare occasions that he would have screaming nightmares about his father stealing his son away, that was the song that Vesca would sing to soothe him back to sleep. It was a task that sometimes took hours, but Vesca did it every time. And as far as Count D knew, Vesca never told anyone about it after the fact. Possibly because the Count had threatened him with severe bodily harm if he did.
As it was, the Count opened his eyes, still hearing the humming but not seeing the source. "Vesca?" he murmured, trying to sit up and finding that the ropes that were currently binding his wrists to the bed prevented such a thing.
"Vesca!" he shrieked, his tone much sharper, and angrier now. Especially when his lover did not immediately appear.
In fact, Vesca Howell had the nerve to not show himself for another five minutes, and each time the Count called for him, the only response he might get was Vesca's laughter or once a "keep your pants on, D!" Which made him want to throttle Vesca even more, if only because Mr. Howell had seen to it that D had neither pants nor anything else on.
In fact, when Vesca finally did make an appearance, he was looking as smug as the cat who ate not only the canary, but every other bird in the pet store as well. And he was carrying a small pot in his hand.
"Mr. Howell!" D growled the moment his lover entered the room. "You will untie me this instant!"
"Someone's pushy," Vesca said, ignoring the Count for the moment, as he admired his handiwork.
"Vesca!" the Count growled, his temper flaring again.
"Now now, you don't need to be upset. I won the bet, after all," Vesca said, setting the pot of something down on a small hotplate, and clicking the hotplate on.
"Bet? What bet? What are you talking about?" the Count growled.
"I bet you that if you went with me to that movie that you'd have a good time. You scoffed and said you wouldn't. And that you'd bet me anything that you wouldn't," Vesca said, purring now. "You enjoyed yourself. So I won."
"A James Bond film is hardly a movie, Vesca! It is simply a series of overpriced action sequences strung together!" the Count huffed.
"Call it what you will. But you still enjoyed yourself. Which means I won the bet. So... I'm taking my prize," Vesca purred, grinning a little.
"And you needed to tie me down and strip me naked to do that?" the Count growled. If he wasn't tied down, Vesca would be in serious danger of losing an eye.
"You said you'd bet me anything. It's hardly my fault that I decided I'd prefer sex above all other possible prizes," Vesca teased. "And I decided to make the most of it."
"I will show you how I will make the most of clawing your eyes out if you do not untie me right this instant, Vesca!" the Count growled, thrashing a little.
"I like my eyes where they are, thanks. So I think I'm going to have to leave you tied down," Vesca said, rolling his eyes. And then, to stall any further protests, he leaned in and kissed the Count. Soundly.
D purred into the kiss, though on some level he cursed Vesca's ability to be so thoroughly and completely distracting. This should not be as nice as it was. Especially since, with Vesca kissing him, the Count could almost forget that he was tied down. Almost, but not quite. And he got a rather rude reminder when he went to wrap his arms around his lover, and found himself unable to.
Which caused him to break the kiss, scowling in irritation. "Vesca! Untie me!"
"Good things come to those who wait," Vesca teased, his voice nearly sing-song. And he kissed D again, his hands trailing over the Count's body then, seeking out any and all of the sensitive spots.
D moaned softly when Vesca's too-skilled hands found what they were looking for, especially when the other man's fingers started to tease at his nipples. He broke the kiss with a gasp of his lover's name. Which just drew a dark chuckle from Vesca. And that sent a shiver down the Count's spine all on it's own.
Vesca's mouth slowly followed his fingers, and it wasn't long before he was teasing the Count's nipples with his tongue. And when he had finished teasing one, he trailed nipping kisses over to the other one, teasing it until it was hard. And then he pulled back, purring a little at the way D groaned beneath him.
"Vesca!" There was clear frustration in that voice.
"Just wait, D. We haven't even gotten started," Vesca purred.
"Haven't even... what are you talking about?" D demanded. "I'd say you had definitely gotten started."
"And that's where you would be wrong," Vesca said, grinning, as his hands skimmed down his lover's body, drinking in the smooth, warm skin. And purring faintly at every noise that escaped from his lover, however faint they may be.
The Count squirmed, pulling at the ropes that tied his wrists. He did notice that Vesca had left his legs unbound, so therefore he could technically kick Vesca until the other man let him go or untied him. And he was of half a mind to, if Vesca didn't stop teasing him. However, it was hard to think of threats like that when Vesca's hand was wrapping around and stroking his cock, and his mouth was nipping along the Count's thighs.
"Gods, Vesca," D moaned. "Stop teasing."
Vesca chuckled darkly, and his breath ghosted against the Count's cock for the briefest of instances before pulling away. Oh he wasn't ready to stop teasing yet. Not yet. Tying his lover down wasn't all that he had in mind after all. And so, after giving D a few more light, teasing caresses, he got up from the bed, and started stripping.
"Do you have to do that now?" the Count demanded.
"Well, it is kind of hard to fuck you into the sheets if I'm still fully clothed," Vesca pointed out, before discarding his shirt on the floor. He smirked a little as Vesca watched the count's eyes follow his hands to his fly.
"And you couldn't be bothered to think of this before, when you clearly had the forethought to strip me naked and tie me down?" the Count asked scathingly.
"I was too busy enjoying the view at the time," Vesca said, before giving his lover a winning smile.
The Count scowled, unconvinced, but his irritation didn't seem to stop him from watching as Vesca stripped out of the jeans he was wearing, leaving him as naked as the day he was born.
"Besides," Vesca continued, as he wandered over to the hotplate where he'd put the small pot when he came into the room. "It's generally not good to cook while naked."
"You were cooking?" the Count asked, wincing when he saw Vesca pick up a chopstick and use it to stir the whatever-it-was in the pot.
"Something like that," Vesca said, grinning a little, and picking up the pot.
Count D, however, was not smiling. In fact, he was still scowling thunderously at Vesca. But despite the scowl, Vesca had to admit that D made a very beautiful sight as he was now. Sprawled, flushed, and hard. The ropes made a nice addition, but it would have been a gorgeous view even without them.
"So now what? Are you going to stare at me for the rest of the evening?" the Count countered.
"Mmm... despite how pretty a sight you make like that? No, D, I'm not going to stare at you the rest of the night. Well, I might, but not from across the room," Vesca said, smirking before walking over to the bed, pot still in hand.
"What is it that you have?" D demanded.
"Good things come to those who wait," Vesca teased.
"Vesca!" the Count growled, a note of warning clear in his voice.
"Good things come to those who wait, D," Vesca repeated. And when he was finally over on the bed, he grinned wickedly, before tipping some of the pot's contents, hot chocolate sauce made from melted chocolate chips, onto the Count's chest.
D gasped sharply as the hot thick sauce hit his skin. It was like candle wax, almost, except a little cooler. And a jolt of pain-laced pleasure skittered along his nerves as he felt a few more drops drizzle across his skin.
Vesca purred faintly, watching his lover's reaction. He was going to have so much fun with this. Which is why he waited a scant few seconds before pouring more of the melted chocolate onto his lover's naked body. He drizzled it along D's arms, his stomach, his thighs. He drizzled it a little bit at a time, so as not to burn his the pretty Count. And the entire time, he was watching D's reactions. He was looking to see if there were any true expressions of pain. But there didn't seem to be.
The Count was moaning, gasping, and arching a little as the hot chocolate fell upon his skin. Each drop sent heat and that weird mix of pleasure-pain through him. It was a heady sensation. Even moreso when Vesca got a bit more daring and let the chocolate fall on D's already sensitized nipples. And a long, low moan escaped the Count when Vesca let a few drops of the almost-cooled chocolate fall on his cock.
"This is better than candle wax," Vesca murmured, his eyes sparkling a bit in the dim light of the room.
"Oh?" was the most eloquent response the Count was able to come up with for that comment.
"Yeah. Because now... now I get to clean you up," Vesca purred, licking his lips, and making the statement sound absolutely sinful when he did.
The Count might have been able to come up with a proper response to that if Vesca hadn't started to go after the hardening chocolate right then. Vesca had the remarkable ability to render him speechless with relative ease. It would be impressive if it weren't so irritating. But the Count only really found Vesca irritating when he wasn't doing such wicked things with his mouth.
Vesca trailed his lips over his lover's body, licking up the chocolate. He was licking the chocolate clean from one area, before moving to the next. And he had started near the Count's throat, before systematically moving lower. Vesca listened, taking in all the sounds that he was drawing from his lover. He might be able to render D speechless, but it didn't stop his lover from making noise.
Speaking of D, the kami was currently moaning breathlessly, though the sound intensified when Vesca started to pay attention to his nipples, licking the chocolate off, and lavishing more attention there than was probably really necessary. Not that the Count could say he minded that much, however...
"Vesca, stop teasing!" D groaned, his hands pulling at the ropes.
"Nope. Don't think so," Vesca said. "I like hearing you moan. And I love seeing you writhe."
"You talk too much," the Count complained, frowning.
Vesca laughed. "Well then. Less talk, more action," he murmured, as he refocused his attentions on cleaning the chocolate off of his lover with his tongue.
That had the effect of reducing the Count to breathless moans, phrases hissed in Chinese, and the occasional gasp of his lover's name. Especially as Vesca's very skilled tongue sought out all of the sensitive spots on the Count's body as Vesca moved ever lower, licking off chocolate as he went. The moans and hissed Chinese grew louder when the Count felt Vesca's mouth surround his cock, and he was nearly overwhelmed then and there by the warm, wet heat of Vesca's mouth.
"Vesca!"
There was a definite trill to the name, and the Count gasped breathlessly as he felt Vesca hum around him. He whispered in Chinese, something about Vesca cheating, and being a tease, and if he stopped, oh dear gods he'd better not stop. Of course, D wouldn't have been coherent if he was speaking in a language Vesca could understand. The fact that he was saying all of this in very fast, barely coherent (even to himself) Chinese said something.
Vesca hummed around his lover, before pulling away, and starting to lick the chocolate off of D's thighs. He licked down the inside of them, every now and again going back to take teasing little licks at the Count's cock. He was very glad that he'd had the foresight to tie his lover's hands, because if he hadn't, he had the feeling that D would be trying to pull his hair out. By the roots if necessary. Especially if the way the sounds that his lover was making, and the way that they were continuously scaling up in volume was any indication.
Really, Vesca knew that he could bring D off then and there, but he wasn't quite ready to do that yet. Not quite yet. He wanted to have D. He wanted to fuck him into the sheets. And the sound that escaped D's lips when Vesca lifted his hips slightly, and trailed his tongue along the Count's crease was just plain indecent. And Vesca wondered if such sounds should be classified as illegal. Especially since he could be tempted to come just from the noises that D was making.
But he wouldn't. No, such things had their time, and right now, there were much more enjoyable ways that he could be reaching his own climax. But first... first he needed to make sure D was ready. That he was moaning and writhing. Begging would be nice, but Vesca wouldn't hold his breath over it. D was a bit too proud for that. Or he didn't want to give Vesca that kind of satisfaction. As it was, Vesca worked his tongue inside of the kami, his hands trailing lightly along D's hips as he did.
D moaned, any coherent thought driven out of his head by what Vesca was doing with his mouth. In fact, what was escaping him was a litany of incoherent Chinese, and his lover's name. Especially as Vesca drove him higher and higher.
And then it stopped. Vesca drew away, leaving D panting, breathless, and hard.
"Vesca," the Count hissed, his voice a clear warning.
He didn't have to go any further than that. Vesca had changed positions and was sliding into D before the Count managed to finish his threat. He moaned thickly, as the Count's heat surrounded him. "Oh hell, D," he gasped.
The Count was no good for words around that time. He moaned, wrapping his legs around Vesca's waist once his lover was seated inside him. He tightened them in an unconscious request for more, and wasn't disappointed, as Vesca started to move soon after that.
Vesca moaned as he arched into his lover. "D," he gasped, the tight heat almost bringing him to an end then and there, but he couldn't. Not quite yet. Especially not with the teasing he'd get from D if he did.
D arched back, meeting Vesca's thrusts with counter-movements of his own, and he moaned as the pace slowly increased. Again, he was reduced to incoherent Chinese and gasping Vesca's name. He pulled at the rope, hissing a little at the burn he got from it, but pulling at it all the same. He wanted to touch Vesca, hold him, rake his nails down his back. Though even those thoughts got jumbled and muddled as Vesca's thrusts touched that spot inside of him that made stars explode in his vision, and he moaned, his voice scaling up.
"Gods, Vesca," D gasped.
"They can't help you now," Vesca teased, grinning a little, though the effect was spoiled by a moan as he arched into his lover.
D simply was not going to last long. Not with all of the teasing that Vesca had done, combined with the fast, hard pace that his lover was setting. Not that he minded. He gasped, shuddering a little when he heard a soft, strangled noise and felt Vesca come. But his lover didn't stop quite yet, and he continued arching into the Count, driving him higher, and higher, until all he knew was calling his lover's name and panting in some half-coherent mixture of Chinese and possibly English.
And then the Count was coming, hard, calling his lover's name with an urgency so frantic that it was as if his life depended on it.
"Vesca! Vesca! Oh god--"
*~*~*
"--Vesca!"
He woke in the dark, Vesca's name on his lips and a warm body curled up with him, a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, holding him loosely. At first, he though he'd simply passed out, and that Vesca had untied him at some point. However, the scars that circled those arms like tattoos made it clear that the other person in the bed with him was not Vesca.
"D?" Vincent muttered into the Count's shoulder, having woken at his lover's yelling and thrashing about.
D startled a bit at the young doctor's voice. A dream. That entire thing had been a dream. Or rather, a memory, from when he and Vesca had been in university.
"What's the matter, D?" Vincent muttered, kissing the Count's shoulder, and still not entirely awake. He'd pulled a 24-hour shift before coming home though, so it wasn't surprising that he was still mostly asleep.
"Nothing Dr. Harris. It was just a dream. Go back to sleep," the Count said softly, shaking his head.
"Dream? Of what? You were thrashin' 'round an awful lot." Vincent was, in fact, still talking to the Count's shoulder, but he was trying to wake up enough to have a coherent conversation.
"Long ago and far away Ves-- Vincent. Don't worry yourself with it. It was another time, another place," the Count said soothingly, though he tried to shake himself out of the remnants of the dream. He didn't need to be calling Vincent by his past incarnation's name. After all, for all the two men were alike, there were also very noticeable differences.
There was a pause, and for a short while, Count D thought that Vincent had fallen back to sleep. However, that hope was dashed when Vincent spoke.
"You were dreaming of him."
The Count stilled in Vincent's arms. There wasn't any accusation there. Vincent's tone had been a bit too certain for it to be an accusation. He knew. Somehow he--
"You were calling his name in your sleep again."
"Again?" the Count asked weakly. He wasn't aware that it was a regular occurrence.
"You call out for him a lot," Vincent said. There was resignation in his tone.
"Vincent--"
"It's all right."
"Vincent--"
"I said it's all right, D," Vincent growled. "Stop worrying about it."
"...It doesn't bother you?"
Vincent was quiet for a long time. And again, the Count thought that he might have fallen asleep. And again, the Count had no such luck.
"Hell yes, it bothers me."
"Then why didn't you tell me about this sooner? I can't do anything about it if I don't know about it," the Count said, looking over his shoulder at his lover.
"You can't control what you do in your sleep, can you?" Vincent asked, settling a bit more comfortably, and closing his eyes again. "Besides, you never call his name when it matters."
"When it matters?" the Count echoed. He was having to strain to hear Vincent, mostly because his lover had resumed his conversation with the Count's shoulder.
"Yeah. When it matters, you call mine," Vincent murmured, before settling down, tightening his hold on his lover just a little. And a few minutes later, his breathing evened out and he was asleep again.
The Count listened to Vincent's slow, even breathing for a while. That... was surprising to hear coming from the cynical young doctor. Though there was a fairly good chance that with as exhausted as Vincent was, he wouldn't remember much of this entire conversation in the morning. And really, the Count wasn't sure if that could be considered a good or a bad thing.
Though there was one thing he did know. And that was that he might have to ask Vincent to try that thing with the melted chocolate again.
Title: To the victor...
Fandom: Petshop of Horrors
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Papa D x Vesca Howell
Archive: Ask and ye shall be as gods receive
Warning: male/male sex, bondage, interesting uses of chocolate sauce, profanity, PWP
Spoilers: Very mild Petshop of Horrors spoilers. And perhaps mild spoilers for events in Same Words, Different Situation which have yet to happen
The Count woke to the sound of soft humming. He recognized the tune. He knew he did. It was a lullaby. In fact, it was the only lullaby that Vesca knew. And the only reason the Count knew that was because on the very rare occasions that he would have screaming nightmares about his father stealing his son away, that was the song that Vesca would sing to soothe him back to sleep. It was a task that sometimes took hours, but Vesca did it every time. And as far as Count D knew, Vesca never told anyone about it after the fact. Possibly because the Count had threatened him with severe bodily harm if he did.
As it was, the Count opened his eyes, still hearing the humming but not seeing the source. "Vesca?" he murmured, trying to sit up and finding that the ropes that were currently binding his wrists to the bed prevented such a thing.
"Vesca!" he shrieked, his tone much sharper, and angrier now. Especially when his lover did not immediately appear.
In fact, Vesca Howell had the nerve to not show himself for another five minutes, and each time the Count called for him, the only response he might get was Vesca's laughter or once a "keep your pants on, D!" Which made him want to throttle Vesca even more, if only because Mr. Howell had seen to it that D had neither pants nor anything else on.
In fact, when Vesca finally did make an appearance, he was looking as smug as the cat who ate not only the canary, but every other bird in the pet store as well. And he was carrying a small pot in his hand.
"Mr. Howell!" D growled the moment his lover entered the room. "You will untie me this instant!"
"Someone's pushy," Vesca said, ignoring the Count for the moment, as he admired his handiwork.
"Vesca!" the Count growled, his temper flaring again.
"Now now, you don't need to be upset. I won the bet, after all," Vesca said, setting the pot of something down on a small hotplate, and clicking the hotplate on.
"Bet? What bet? What are you talking about?" the Count growled.
"I bet you that if you went with me to that movie that you'd have a good time. You scoffed and said you wouldn't. And that you'd bet me anything that you wouldn't," Vesca said, purring now. "You enjoyed yourself. So I won."
"A James Bond film is hardly a movie, Vesca! It is simply a series of overpriced action sequences strung together!" the Count huffed.
"Call it what you will. But you still enjoyed yourself. Which means I won the bet. So... I'm taking my prize," Vesca purred, grinning a little.
"And you needed to tie me down and strip me naked to do that?" the Count growled. If he wasn't tied down, Vesca would be in serious danger of losing an eye.
"You said you'd bet me anything. It's hardly my fault that I decided I'd prefer sex above all other possible prizes," Vesca teased. "And I decided to make the most of it."
"I will show you how I will make the most of clawing your eyes out if you do not untie me right this instant, Vesca!" the Count growled, thrashing a little.
"I like my eyes where they are, thanks. So I think I'm going to have to leave you tied down," Vesca said, rolling his eyes. And then, to stall any further protests, he leaned in and kissed the Count. Soundly.
D purred into the kiss, though on some level he cursed Vesca's ability to be so thoroughly and completely distracting. This should not be as nice as it was. Especially since, with Vesca kissing him, the Count could almost forget that he was tied down. Almost, but not quite. And he got a rather rude reminder when he went to wrap his arms around his lover, and found himself unable to.
Which caused him to break the kiss, scowling in irritation. "Vesca! Untie me!"
"Good things come to those who wait," Vesca teased, his voice nearly sing-song. And he kissed D again, his hands trailing over the Count's body then, seeking out any and all of the sensitive spots.
D moaned softly when Vesca's too-skilled hands found what they were looking for, especially when the other man's fingers started to tease at his nipples. He broke the kiss with a gasp of his lover's name. Which just drew a dark chuckle from Vesca. And that sent a shiver down the Count's spine all on it's own.
Vesca's mouth slowly followed his fingers, and it wasn't long before he was teasing the Count's nipples with his tongue. And when he had finished teasing one, he trailed nipping kisses over to the other one, teasing it until it was hard. And then he pulled back, purring a little at the way D groaned beneath him.
"Vesca!" There was clear frustration in that voice.
"Just wait, D. We haven't even gotten started," Vesca purred.
"Haven't even... what are you talking about?" D demanded. "I'd say you had definitely gotten started."
"And that's where you would be wrong," Vesca said, grinning, as his hands skimmed down his lover's body, drinking in the smooth, warm skin. And purring faintly at every noise that escaped from his lover, however faint they may be.
The Count squirmed, pulling at the ropes that tied his wrists. He did notice that Vesca had left his legs unbound, so therefore he could technically kick Vesca until the other man let him go or untied him. And he was of half a mind to, if Vesca didn't stop teasing him. However, it was hard to think of threats like that when Vesca's hand was wrapping around and stroking his cock, and his mouth was nipping along the Count's thighs.
"Gods, Vesca," D moaned. "Stop teasing."
Vesca chuckled darkly, and his breath ghosted against the Count's cock for the briefest of instances before pulling away. Oh he wasn't ready to stop teasing yet. Not yet. Tying his lover down wasn't all that he had in mind after all. And so, after giving D a few more light, teasing caresses, he got up from the bed, and started stripping.
"Do you have to do that now?" the Count demanded.
"Well, it is kind of hard to fuck you into the sheets if I'm still fully clothed," Vesca pointed out, before discarding his shirt on the floor. He smirked a little as Vesca watched the count's eyes follow his hands to his fly.
"And you couldn't be bothered to think of this before, when you clearly had the forethought to strip me naked and tie me down?" the Count asked scathingly.
"I was too busy enjoying the view at the time," Vesca said, before giving his lover a winning smile.
The Count scowled, unconvinced, but his irritation didn't seem to stop him from watching as Vesca stripped out of the jeans he was wearing, leaving him as naked as the day he was born.
"Besides," Vesca continued, as he wandered over to the hotplate where he'd put the small pot when he came into the room. "It's generally not good to cook while naked."
"You were cooking?" the Count asked, wincing when he saw Vesca pick up a chopstick and use it to stir the whatever-it-was in the pot.
"Something like that," Vesca said, grinning a little, and picking up the pot.
Count D, however, was not smiling. In fact, he was still scowling thunderously at Vesca. But despite the scowl, Vesca had to admit that D made a very beautiful sight as he was now. Sprawled, flushed, and hard. The ropes made a nice addition, but it would have been a gorgeous view even without them.
"So now what? Are you going to stare at me for the rest of the evening?" the Count countered.
"Mmm... despite how pretty a sight you make like that? No, D, I'm not going to stare at you the rest of the night. Well, I might, but not from across the room," Vesca said, smirking before walking over to the bed, pot still in hand.
"What is it that you have?" D demanded.
"Good things come to those who wait," Vesca teased.
"Vesca!" the Count growled, a note of warning clear in his voice.
"Good things come to those who wait, D," Vesca repeated. And when he was finally over on the bed, he grinned wickedly, before tipping some of the pot's contents, hot chocolate sauce made from melted chocolate chips, onto the Count's chest.
D gasped sharply as the hot thick sauce hit his skin. It was like candle wax, almost, except a little cooler. And a jolt of pain-laced pleasure skittered along his nerves as he felt a few more drops drizzle across his skin.
Vesca purred faintly, watching his lover's reaction. He was going to have so much fun with this. Which is why he waited a scant few seconds before pouring more of the melted chocolate onto his lover's naked body. He drizzled it along D's arms, his stomach, his thighs. He drizzled it a little bit at a time, so as not to burn his the pretty Count. And the entire time, he was watching D's reactions. He was looking to see if there were any true expressions of pain. But there didn't seem to be.
The Count was moaning, gasping, and arching a little as the hot chocolate fell upon his skin. Each drop sent heat and that weird mix of pleasure-pain through him. It was a heady sensation. Even moreso when Vesca got a bit more daring and let the chocolate fall on D's already sensitized nipples. And a long, low moan escaped the Count when Vesca let a few drops of the almost-cooled chocolate fall on his cock.
"This is better than candle wax," Vesca murmured, his eyes sparkling a bit in the dim light of the room.
"Oh?" was the most eloquent response the Count was able to come up with for that comment.
"Yeah. Because now... now I get to clean you up," Vesca purred, licking his lips, and making the statement sound absolutely sinful when he did.
The Count might have been able to come up with a proper response to that if Vesca hadn't started to go after the hardening chocolate right then. Vesca had the remarkable ability to render him speechless with relative ease. It would be impressive if it weren't so irritating. But the Count only really found Vesca irritating when he wasn't doing such wicked things with his mouth.
Vesca trailed his lips over his lover's body, licking up the chocolate. He was licking the chocolate clean from one area, before moving to the next. And he had started near the Count's throat, before systematically moving lower. Vesca listened, taking in all the sounds that he was drawing from his lover. He might be able to render D speechless, but it didn't stop his lover from making noise.
Speaking of D, the kami was currently moaning breathlessly, though the sound intensified when Vesca started to pay attention to his nipples, licking the chocolate off, and lavishing more attention there than was probably really necessary. Not that the Count could say he minded that much, however...
"Vesca, stop teasing!" D groaned, his hands pulling at the ropes.
"Nope. Don't think so," Vesca said. "I like hearing you moan. And I love seeing you writhe."
"You talk too much," the Count complained, frowning.
Vesca laughed. "Well then. Less talk, more action," he murmured, as he refocused his attentions on cleaning the chocolate off of his lover with his tongue.
That had the effect of reducing the Count to breathless moans, phrases hissed in Chinese, and the occasional gasp of his lover's name. Especially as Vesca's very skilled tongue sought out all of the sensitive spots on the Count's body as Vesca moved ever lower, licking off chocolate as he went. The moans and hissed Chinese grew louder when the Count felt Vesca's mouth surround his cock, and he was nearly overwhelmed then and there by the warm, wet heat of Vesca's mouth.
"Vesca!"
There was a definite trill to the name, and the Count gasped breathlessly as he felt Vesca hum around him. He whispered in Chinese, something about Vesca cheating, and being a tease, and if he stopped, oh dear gods he'd better not stop. Of course, D wouldn't have been coherent if he was speaking in a language Vesca could understand. The fact that he was saying all of this in very fast, barely coherent (even to himself) Chinese said something.
Vesca hummed around his lover, before pulling away, and starting to lick the chocolate off of D's thighs. He licked down the inside of them, every now and again going back to take teasing little licks at the Count's cock. He was very glad that he'd had the foresight to tie his lover's hands, because if he hadn't, he had the feeling that D would be trying to pull his hair out. By the roots if necessary. Especially if the way the sounds that his lover was making, and the way that they were continuously scaling up in volume was any indication.
Really, Vesca knew that he could bring D off then and there, but he wasn't quite ready to do that yet. Not quite yet. He wanted to have D. He wanted to fuck him into the sheets. And the sound that escaped D's lips when Vesca lifted his hips slightly, and trailed his tongue along the Count's crease was just plain indecent. And Vesca wondered if such sounds should be classified as illegal. Especially since he could be tempted to come just from the noises that D was making.
But he wouldn't. No, such things had their time, and right now, there were much more enjoyable ways that he could be reaching his own climax. But first... first he needed to make sure D was ready. That he was moaning and writhing. Begging would be nice, but Vesca wouldn't hold his breath over it. D was a bit too proud for that. Or he didn't want to give Vesca that kind of satisfaction. As it was, Vesca worked his tongue inside of the kami, his hands trailing lightly along D's hips as he did.
D moaned, any coherent thought driven out of his head by what Vesca was doing with his mouth. In fact, what was escaping him was a litany of incoherent Chinese, and his lover's name. Especially as Vesca drove him higher and higher.
And then it stopped. Vesca drew away, leaving D panting, breathless, and hard.
"Vesca," the Count hissed, his voice a clear warning.
He didn't have to go any further than that. Vesca had changed positions and was sliding into D before the Count managed to finish his threat. He moaned thickly, as the Count's heat surrounded him. "Oh hell, D," he gasped.
The Count was no good for words around that time. He moaned, wrapping his legs around Vesca's waist once his lover was seated inside him. He tightened them in an unconscious request for more, and wasn't disappointed, as Vesca started to move soon after that.
Vesca moaned as he arched into his lover. "D," he gasped, the tight heat almost bringing him to an end then and there, but he couldn't. Not quite yet. Especially not with the teasing he'd get from D if he did.
D arched back, meeting Vesca's thrusts with counter-movements of his own, and he moaned as the pace slowly increased. Again, he was reduced to incoherent Chinese and gasping Vesca's name. He pulled at the rope, hissing a little at the burn he got from it, but pulling at it all the same. He wanted to touch Vesca, hold him, rake his nails down his back. Though even those thoughts got jumbled and muddled as Vesca's thrusts touched that spot inside of him that made stars explode in his vision, and he moaned, his voice scaling up.
"Gods, Vesca," D gasped.
"They can't help you now," Vesca teased, grinning a little, though the effect was spoiled by a moan as he arched into his lover.
D simply was not going to last long. Not with all of the teasing that Vesca had done, combined with the fast, hard pace that his lover was setting. Not that he minded. He gasped, shuddering a little when he heard a soft, strangled noise and felt Vesca come. But his lover didn't stop quite yet, and he continued arching into the Count, driving him higher, and higher, until all he knew was calling his lover's name and panting in some half-coherent mixture of Chinese and possibly English.
And then the Count was coming, hard, calling his lover's name with an urgency so frantic that it was as if his life depended on it.
"Vesca! Vesca! Oh god--"
*~*~*
"--Vesca!"
He woke in the dark, Vesca's name on his lips and a warm body curled up with him, a pair of arms wrapped around his waist, holding him loosely. At first, he though he'd simply passed out, and that Vesca had untied him at some point. However, the scars that circled those arms like tattoos made it clear that the other person in the bed with him was not Vesca.
"D?" Vincent muttered into the Count's shoulder, having woken at his lover's yelling and thrashing about.
D startled a bit at the young doctor's voice. A dream. That entire thing had been a dream. Or rather, a memory, from when he and Vesca had been in university.
"What's the matter, D?" Vincent muttered, kissing the Count's shoulder, and still not entirely awake. He'd pulled a 24-hour shift before coming home though, so it wasn't surprising that he was still mostly asleep.
"Nothing Dr. Harris. It was just a dream. Go back to sleep," the Count said softly, shaking his head.
"Dream? Of what? You were thrashin' 'round an awful lot." Vincent was, in fact, still talking to the Count's shoulder, but he was trying to wake up enough to have a coherent conversation.
"Long ago and far away Ves-- Vincent. Don't worry yourself with it. It was another time, another place," the Count said soothingly, though he tried to shake himself out of the remnants of the dream. He didn't need to be calling Vincent by his past incarnation's name. After all, for all the two men were alike, there were also very noticeable differences.
There was a pause, and for a short while, Count D thought that Vincent had fallen back to sleep. However, that hope was dashed when Vincent spoke.
"You were dreaming of him."
The Count stilled in Vincent's arms. There wasn't any accusation there. Vincent's tone had been a bit too certain for it to be an accusation. He knew. Somehow he--
"You were calling his name in your sleep again."
"Again?" the Count asked weakly. He wasn't aware that it was a regular occurrence.
"You call out for him a lot," Vincent said. There was resignation in his tone.
"Vincent--"
"It's all right."
"Vincent--"
"I said it's all right, D," Vincent growled. "Stop worrying about it."
"...It doesn't bother you?"
Vincent was quiet for a long time. And again, the Count thought that he might have fallen asleep. And again, the Count had no such luck.
"Hell yes, it bothers me."
"Then why didn't you tell me about this sooner? I can't do anything about it if I don't know about it," the Count said, looking over his shoulder at his lover.
"You can't control what you do in your sleep, can you?" Vincent asked, settling a bit more comfortably, and closing his eyes again. "Besides, you never call his name when it matters."
"When it matters?" the Count echoed. He was having to strain to hear Vincent, mostly because his lover had resumed his conversation with the Count's shoulder.
"Yeah. When it matters, you call mine," Vincent murmured, before settling down, tightening his hold on his lover just a little. And a few minutes later, his breathing evened out and he was asleep again.
The Count listened to Vincent's slow, even breathing for a while. That... was surprising to hear coming from the cynical young doctor. Though there was a fairly good chance that with as exhausted as Vincent was, he wouldn't remember much of this entire conversation in the morning. And really, the Count wasn't sure if that could be considered a good or a bad thing.
Though there was one thing he did know. And that was that he might have to ask Vincent to try that thing with the melted chocolate again.