i am covered in pen, born of ink
★ Drugs, even over-the-counter ones, are excellent. And so is sleeping for more than forty minutes at a time. Having your parents be worried about you is a nice fuzzy bonus.
★ For the past year or so, I have been striving to be a much more positive person, and for the most part it's working, but lately I have been getting a serious case of the angries at night. Like, "See someone doing something dumb on the internet and imagine banishing them from said internet" angry. It's really strange. Logic tells me that I am angry because I'm tired, but I'm really not. I could at least be using my anger in a constructive way, instead of being secretly mad at idiots that I don't care about.
★ To combat my useless anger, here is some...crossover AU of an AU? As it turns out, I really do ship Eric/M. Colbert/Nate/Godric. WHAT IS MY LIFE, YOU GUYS?
There's this whole thing, where Colbert and Eric are in business together, Brad running the front of the house, so to speak, and Eric providing the capital/connections. They only sort of get along, except for the thing where they really don't. But of course Eric is interested in Nate (and sticking it to Brad), so he decides maybe he'd prefer a little less money every month in exchange for some blood.
"Be kind to him," Godric says, from Eric's far side. "He is not used to our kind."
Nate swallows, turning his attention to Godric. He clearly didn't think that Godric would also be one.
"Yes," Eric says. "Him as well."
Godric smiles a little, his mouth closed, nodding at Nate.
Nate nods back, terrified. Brad squeezes his neck and Eric looks smug, the bastard. He half-turns to Godric.
"He smells wonderful, doesn't he? Like fear and sex."
Godric is still smiling very gently at Nate, but he's not glamouring him. "He seems very nice."
Eric snorts and Nate jerks back.
Eric chuckles, Nate blushes, and Brad glares. He drops his hand to push Nate's drink back in front of him.
"Drink," he commands Nate, who obeys, and then he says to Eric, "Profits are down. Your cut will be less." It's half a lie, but he doesn't care.
Eric frowns at Brad, and then his mouth curls up. "Maybe I could get the rest of my cut someplace else."
"I don't think so," Brad says coldly.
"Ah," Eric says. "But you and I, we have a deal. I would like my dues."
"I'm not getting my fucking dues, and I'm doing all the selling. You can't expect business to be booming. We're in the middle of a war."
Eric's eyes narrow. "There are rules, Brad, about how this goes. And they favour me."
"You can have some of my cut," Brad spits. "It's not like I'm lacking in money." Under the table he pushes his knee against Nate's.
"Hmm." Eric's gaze is shifting back and forth between Brad and Nate. "You're right, of course. Neither of us are lacking in money, so maybe I should start widening my scope."
Brad's not sure what his face does, but it makes Eric grin. "No," he says. "He isn't involved in this."
"Maybe he should be. He's perfect collateral."
Eric looks at Nate, blinking, focusing in, his eyes sharp.
"Nate," Eric murmurs, "look at me."
Nate blinks at him, and his face starts to go dreamy.
"How would you like to help out your friend, M. Colbert?"
"Okay," Nate whispers.
"Stop," Brad hisses.
"Eric," Godric warns, his hand on Eric's wrist. "Release the boy."
Eric keeps staring at Nate and Nate looks back, his face soft and open.
Eric touches him, rubs his thumb over Nate's bottom lip. Nate stays still, blinking slowly. Finally, Eric pulls his gaze and hand away and Nate slumps back in his seat.
"I have decided," Eric says, while Nate stirs, looking at them uncertainly. "The boy will be part of my payment."
And then, y'know, Eric gets his, the bastard. And there is aftermath:
Nate's hands are shaking too hard for him to do up his shirt. He fumbles with them for a while before Brad steps up and helps set him to rights, doing his buttons up quickly and carefully. He can walk on his own although his steps are woozy.
Brad remembers that. But he doesn't remember the erection, which Nate has.
He doesn't need help down the street, although once or twice he pauses, braced on a building, his eyes closed. Brad keeps pace with him, smoking.
Brad locks the shop door behind them and slides both deadbolts over, and then gets Nate up the stairs. He undoes half the buttons he did before and tugs the shirt over Nate's head. The shirt gets tossed onto the floor. Brad will discard it later, careful not to touch the little dots of blood near the left armpit.
He gets Nate to lean against the bathroom sink and cleans the wounds on the underside of his bicep, swiping them clean with antiseptic and then taping some gauze over them, even though they're hardly bleeding.
Nate stands there, looking drowsy and delicious, his slouched-out hips highlighting his cock.
"Cured," Brad tells him when he's done. "And none the worse for the wear."
Nate nods and then leans in to get his mouth on Brad's.
Nate yanks him close, his mouth open and messy, his cock digging into Brad's thigh. He's frantic, rubbing like crazy on Brad, moaning when Brad licks him back.
It's Brad's turn to fumble, trying to get Nate's trousers undone, pulled down to his knees, his underwear mid-thigh. His cock is burning hot, even though Brad's shirt.
Nate shivers when Brad touches him, sagging into Brad. He twitches when Brad nips his mouth.
Brad gets him off like that, his bare ass pinned up against the cold sink, their mouths tangled up. Nate scrabbles at his trousers, all his lethargy gone. When Nate gets his cock out Brad growls and Nate shivers again, although Eric never did that, coming hard against Brad's belly.
Brad keeps him pinned and ruts against his abs, moaning into Nate's mouth, holding him too tight. Nate's hands in his hair are just as tight, tugging him into his own orgasm.
&
And it keeps happening, just like that, every week.
&
Then there's the night they walk into the sitting room and Godric is standing in the middle of the room, Eric sulking in the shadows.
"Tonight I will be receiving the payment," Godric says mildly, but Nate still freezes next to Brad.
Godric beckons Nate forward, crooking his fingers to call Nate forward to where he's standing, next to the long wide chaise.
Nate doesn't go until Brad nudges his elbow and then he stumbles a little.
"Do not be afraid," Godric tells him quietly when he gets there. "I require less blood than Eric." He starts unbuttoning the shirt Brad loaned to Nate. "I am his elder," he says, like it's a comfort.
From the wingback chair by the fire Eric snorts.
Godric guides Nate down to the chaise and positions him so his head rests on the curve of it, his throat exposed to the room, the firelight licking over it. Nate closes his eyes when Godric joins him, half-bent across his body.
"Would you like to be glamored?" Godric asks him.
Brad says "No" before Nate can answer.
"It makes them stupid," he says when they both look to him. Godric nods.
"It will be different than Eric," Godric says. "More intense."
Nate nods his head, his Adam's apple bobbing. And then he tilts his chin away from Godric, offering.
Godric smiles and pets his throat with a thumb.
Brad thinks he hears the snick of Godric's fangs coming out, but it could just be the fire popping. He for sure hears the noise Nate stifles when Godric sinks his fangs into Nate's throat.
Nate's left leg kicks involuntarily against the heavy velvet of the chaise and all of a sudden Eric is there beside Brad, watching avidly.
Godric holds Nate still while he drinks, because Nate is squirming, his knees moving restlessly. He's gulping for air, his eyes wide open but not seeing. His cock is hard in his pants, fully hard, like Brad's been playing with him for ages.
Brad looks from them to Eric, who is still staring, his mouth open, his fangs out. His left hand is clenched into a tight fist.
Godric drinks for a long time, but slowly, sipping from Nate, who looks like he's in agony, his mouth open, tears streaking down his cheeks.
Eric takes a hard breath in, starting forward. Godric raises a hand to stop him and then raises his head, turning to look at them. His mouth is hardly messy and he catches the one stray drop with a finger, holding it out.
Eric goes to his knees so fast Brad can hardly see him. He doesn’t grab at Godric’s finger, but kneels there instead, his mouth open to receive the swipe across his tongue. He keeps his mouth open even when Godric pulls his finger away.
He bites that finger, a quick little nip so he can heal Nate’s neck. Eric groans when Godric does it. He must be smelling both Nate and Godric’s blood.
“Godric,” he says lowly, almost pleading, reaching out to touch the chaise next to Godric’s thigh.
“Here,” Godric soothes, wiping Nate’s throat off and offering his bloody fingers for Eric’s greedy sucking mouth.
★ For the past year or so, I have been striving to be a much more positive person, and for the most part it's working, but lately I have been getting a serious case of the angries at night. Like, "See someone doing something dumb on the internet and imagine banishing them from said internet" angry. It's really strange. Logic tells me that I am angry because I'm tired, but I'm really not. I could at least be using my anger in a constructive way, instead of being secretly mad at idiots that I don't care about.
★ To combat my useless anger, here is some...crossover AU of an AU? As it turns out, I really do ship Eric/M. Colbert/Nate/Godric. WHAT IS MY LIFE, YOU GUYS?
There's this whole thing, where Colbert and Eric are in business together, Brad running the front of the house, so to speak, and Eric providing the capital/connections. They only sort of get along, except for the thing where they really don't. But of course Eric is interested in Nate (and sticking it to Brad), so he decides maybe he'd prefer a little less money every month in exchange for some blood.
"Be kind to him," Godric says, from Eric's far side. "He is not used to our kind."
Nate swallows, turning his attention to Godric. He clearly didn't think that Godric would also be one.
"Yes," Eric says. "Him as well."
Godric smiles a little, his mouth closed, nodding at Nate.
Nate nods back, terrified. Brad squeezes his neck and Eric looks smug, the bastard. He half-turns to Godric.
"He smells wonderful, doesn't he? Like fear and sex."
Godric is still smiling very gently at Nate, but he's not glamouring him. "He seems very nice."
Eric snorts and Nate jerks back.
Eric chuckles, Nate blushes, and Brad glares. He drops his hand to push Nate's drink back in front of him.
"Drink," he commands Nate, who obeys, and then he says to Eric, "Profits are down. Your cut will be less." It's half a lie, but he doesn't care.
Eric frowns at Brad, and then his mouth curls up. "Maybe I could get the rest of my cut someplace else."
"I don't think so," Brad says coldly.
"Ah," Eric says. "But you and I, we have a deal. I would like my dues."
"I'm not getting my fucking dues, and I'm doing all the selling. You can't expect business to be booming. We're in the middle of a war."
Eric's eyes narrow. "There are rules, Brad, about how this goes. And they favour me."
"You can have some of my cut," Brad spits. "It's not like I'm lacking in money." Under the table he pushes his knee against Nate's.
"Hmm." Eric's gaze is shifting back and forth between Brad and Nate. "You're right, of course. Neither of us are lacking in money, so maybe I should start widening my scope."
Brad's not sure what his face does, but it makes Eric grin. "No," he says. "He isn't involved in this."
"Maybe he should be. He's perfect collateral."
Eric looks at Nate, blinking, focusing in, his eyes sharp.
"Nate," Eric murmurs, "look at me."
Nate blinks at him, and his face starts to go dreamy.
"How would you like to help out your friend, M. Colbert?"
"Okay," Nate whispers.
"Stop," Brad hisses.
"Eric," Godric warns, his hand on Eric's wrist. "Release the boy."
Eric keeps staring at Nate and Nate looks back, his face soft and open.
Eric touches him, rubs his thumb over Nate's bottom lip. Nate stays still, blinking slowly. Finally, Eric pulls his gaze and hand away and Nate slumps back in his seat.
"I have decided," Eric says, while Nate stirs, looking at them uncertainly. "The boy will be part of my payment."
And then, y'know, Eric gets his, the bastard. And there is aftermath:
Nate's hands are shaking too hard for him to do up his shirt. He fumbles with them for a while before Brad steps up and helps set him to rights, doing his buttons up quickly and carefully. He can walk on his own although his steps are woozy.
Brad remembers that. But he doesn't remember the erection, which Nate has.
He doesn't need help down the street, although once or twice he pauses, braced on a building, his eyes closed. Brad keeps pace with him, smoking.
Brad locks the shop door behind them and slides both deadbolts over, and then gets Nate up the stairs. He undoes half the buttons he did before and tugs the shirt over Nate's head. The shirt gets tossed onto the floor. Brad will discard it later, careful not to touch the little dots of blood near the left armpit.
He gets Nate to lean against the bathroom sink and cleans the wounds on the underside of his bicep, swiping them clean with antiseptic and then taping some gauze over them, even though they're hardly bleeding.
Nate stands there, looking drowsy and delicious, his slouched-out hips highlighting his cock.
"Cured," Brad tells him when he's done. "And none the worse for the wear."
Nate nods and then leans in to get his mouth on Brad's.
Nate yanks him close, his mouth open and messy, his cock digging into Brad's thigh. He's frantic, rubbing like crazy on Brad, moaning when Brad licks him back.
It's Brad's turn to fumble, trying to get Nate's trousers undone, pulled down to his knees, his underwear mid-thigh. His cock is burning hot, even though Brad's shirt.
Nate shivers when Brad touches him, sagging into Brad. He twitches when Brad nips his mouth.
Brad gets him off like that, his bare ass pinned up against the cold sink, their mouths tangled up. Nate scrabbles at his trousers, all his lethargy gone. When Nate gets his cock out Brad growls and Nate shivers again, although Eric never did that, coming hard against Brad's belly.
Brad keeps him pinned and ruts against his abs, moaning into Nate's mouth, holding him too tight. Nate's hands in his hair are just as tight, tugging him into his own orgasm.
&
And it keeps happening, just like that, every week.
&
Then there's the night they walk into the sitting room and Godric is standing in the middle of the room, Eric sulking in the shadows.
"Tonight I will be receiving the payment," Godric says mildly, but Nate still freezes next to Brad.
Godric beckons Nate forward, crooking his fingers to call Nate forward to where he's standing, next to the long wide chaise.
Nate doesn't go until Brad nudges his elbow and then he stumbles a little.
"Do not be afraid," Godric tells him quietly when he gets there. "I require less blood than Eric." He starts unbuttoning the shirt Brad loaned to Nate. "I am his elder," he says, like it's a comfort.
From the wingback chair by the fire Eric snorts.
Godric guides Nate down to the chaise and positions him so his head rests on the curve of it, his throat exposed to the room, the firelight licking over it. Nate closes his eyes when Godric joins him, half-bent across his body.
"Would you like to be glamored?" Godric asks him.
Brad says "No" before Nate can answer.
"It makes them stupid," he says when they both look to him. Godric nods.
"It will be different than Eric," Godric says. "More intense."
Nate nods his head, his Adam's apple bobbing. And then he tilts his chin away from Godric, offering.
Godric smiles and pets his throat with a thumb.
Brad thinks he hears the snick of Godric's fangs coming out, but it could just be the fire popping. He for sure hears the noise Nate stifles when Godric sinks his fangs into Nate's throat.
Nate's left leg kicks involuntarily against the heavy velvet of the chaise and all of a sudden Eric is there beside Brad, watching avidly.
Godric holds Nate still while he drinks, because Nate is squirming, his knees moving restlessly. He's gulping for air, his eyes wide open but not seeing. His cock is hard in his pants, fully hard, like Brad's been playing with him for ages.
Brad looks from them to Eric, who is still staring, his mouth open, his fangs out. His left hand is clenched into a tight fist.
Godric drinks for a long time, but slowly, sipping from Nate, who looks like he's in agony, his mouth open, tears streaking down his cheeks.
Eric takes a hard breath in, starting forward. Godric raises a hand to stop him and then raises his head, turning to look at them. His mouth is hardly messy and he catches the one stray drop with a finger, holding it out.
Eric goes to his knees so fast Brad can hardly see him. He doesn’t grab at Godric’s finger, but kneels there instead, his mouth open to receive the swipe across his tongue. He keeps his mouth open even when Godric pulls his finger away.
He bites that finger, a quick little nip so he can heal Nate’s neck. Eric groans when Godric does it. He must be smelling both Nate and Godric’s blood.
“Godric,” he says lowly, almost pleading, reaching out to touch the chaise next to Godric’s thigh.
“Here,” Godric soothes, wiping Nate’s throat off and offering his bloody fingers for Eric’s greedy sucking mouth.