Mine (8/?)
Title: Mine (8/?)
Authors: empathicfrost (Frost) and theonemonaghan (Kacey)
Pairing: Deacon Frost / Scud ( frost_and_scud )
Rating: series NC-17 for language, violence and sex
Disclaimer: Not our stuff, but Kacey makes Frost listen to Scud’s theme song on the Blade 2 ST.
A/N: AU, but that doesn’t mean its not fun!
Summary: Its the pet's fault.
Previous Chapters: Part One, Part Two, Part Three , Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven
Chapter Eight:
Previously:
Deacon could see the blue eyes lower through partings in Scud's bangs but with a sigh, he brushed the hair back, leaving his fingers behind Scud's ear. Feline mouth held no fanged smirk, or growl, merely lay open until he breathed in.
"Don’t pull away."
And the gentle pressure of Deacon's hands led Scud's mouth to his.
------
Scud felt his head being tilted slightly to the side, and the soft start of a kiss being quickly deepened. He could taste his own blood in Deacon's mouth, and it didn't bother him. Josh liked it--and knew that Deacon craved more of it. And the human, who'd just been slapped and accused, had never, ever felt better.
Tongue was offered to Deacon, because Scud knew that blood from the inside of his cheek was coated along its tip. He trusted Deacon not to bite him without warning, and that trust made a big difference in his movements; hands found a balance hold on Deacon's waist, fingers curling to get a grip of the thin material of his shirt.
But when Scud's tongue passed between the gap of their parted lips, it was Deacon who drew a breath that inched back from the touch. He should not be doing this, this broke his own rules.
But the pet's breath was pulsing softly over his mouth and there were fingers grasping his waist and heavily lidded blue eyes asking him not to stop. Deacon had never wanted anything more than he wanted the human at that moment.
He never followed rules anyway.
Their lips reconnected with more insistence, melding and parting together this time. Deacon's fingers twisted into the portion of Scud's hair that he was holding and his cupping palm kept the human close to seek the honeyed tip of Scud's bloody tongue again and keep it. When the human's heat soaked into Deacon's chilled skin, the vampire pressed farther into his pet’s mouth, asked for more, the pronounced razors of his canines grazed the human's warm, nicotine sweetened lips and a hungry puff of air pushed from his nose because his mouth was sealed against another.
He did not want to break the fragile skin of Scud's constantly self-mutilated lips - Deacon's one thought lay in the relief of fully tasting his pet, in breathing in the warmth of the living body and breathing in the evident longing that kept them both going, until their teeth were clicking together more roughly and their position of sitting up was compromised when Deacon pushed Scud against the floor without parting their mouths, still searching this quickened, harsh craving for each other.
But the skin of those human lips broke anyway - blame it on the sudden, abrupt passion, the carelessness of lust and need, blame it on the way that Scud whimpered for more which turned Deacon thoughtless and too rough. It was beyond just a simple spill of blood over both of their lips, Deacon's hungry touch was painful against them.
Somehow, between the floor and the kiss, Scud found himself letting out a soft hiss. Pain. His lip-bleeding and more than before. It coated his tongue enough that he'd pulled away from Deacon's own in a moment of hesitance.
Blood that was dripping down the face and pooling slowly in the concave spot between lips and chin--it was frightening. It was painful.
Deacon wasn't frightening. No. Deacon was beautiful. But Deacon had been too rough. Scud automatically felt bad for tensing--for jerking his head back to the floor in pain.
His master was already so conflicted--and Scud was only making it worse. He felt the desire too--there was a pull whenever Deacon was around him and in reasonable mood. Any smile could send Scud soaring.
And any frown could do the exact opposite. The abusive words hurt, but the small smiles and interested looks along with subtle touches were enough to make Scud forget about the unpleasant.
That was why he felt bad now. Interrupting something that Scud probably wouldn't find solace in again for some time seemed like a sin. And so he chided himself inwardly and leaned his head up a little again, to pleadingly regain what he'd just broken away from.
But they had gone past the point of reconnecting. Deacon's blurry eyes were focused on the puncture wound of his own fangs in the wet mess covering Scud's bottom lip. The tender flesh oozing like a ripe piece of fruit that some animal had taken a bite of. Another of Deacon's marks on Scud's lip to accompany the tattoo of Deacon's glyph that was already there.
The vampire was scowling as hunger for the human and the blood battled. How could Scud be reaching up for his kiss with his lip like that? Did he want to please Deacon that much, sacrifice his own pleasure? Was this about making the master happy no matter what?
The soft, open look on Deacon's expression darkened into its usual contempt. Lust had caused his hand to move under Scud and pull him closer during the kiss, now warring confusion and guilt was tearing his hand away. Deacon pushed off of the human, and rolled onto his back on the floor beside him, hunger drumming under the vampire's skin and up through the blood in his ears.
Guilt tortured him alongside the hunger and Deacon was going mad now. There was a wet, sweetened flavor in his mouth that wasn’t blood and it taunted him with what he had done.
He had landed on something metal when he rolled onto his back, and Deacon picked up his own snapped cross necklace.
Scud's head bumped against the floor as Deacon snatched his hand away, and he let out a little sigh. This had been foreseen---it just happened faster than Josh had thought it would.
As Deacon rolled away, so did Scud. The pet moved to his side, and brought a hand up to his lip, as if his palm would stop the blood there. He wasn't ready to sit up yet--he felt too guilty to move--even though he wasn't exactly sure what he was feeling guilty about. Blue eyes were focused on Deacon, was still to the side of him. Scud was almost surprised that Frost hadn't already fled.
Instead of confronting the vampire about his hot and cold moments, Scud frowned mournfully at the shape in his masters' hand.
"My cross..." He spoke through his bloodied hand, and then tucked his lower lip into his mouth, hoping to lick away the mess that was there.
Deacon turned the silver symbol in his fingers - the black cord was only broken and could be fixed with a knot - the metal was tarnished with age. Deacon had had it for a very long time.
The ferocity of the vampire's scowl lessened enough for his brows to ease and his mouth to open. Eyes never left the necklace when he barely nodded his head. "Your cross." Deacon pushed the silver and it's broken cord across the floor between them before he stood up, the hunger still churning through him as arousal was battled away by his own will power.
Your cross. It's yours and that makes you mine. But you don’t own me. We’re not equals. I'll never be an equal with a human. This is all it can be. Master and pet.
"What just happened - forget it, it never happened." The growl rolled up from his chest. "It can’t happen."
Deacon left the room, and shortly after the front door closed as well. He wouldn’t return for the rest of the night.
Staring at the doorway that Deacon had walked through a few minutes before was depressing. Scud couldn't help it though--something inside of him hurt, and it wasn't his bleeding lip.
Annoyance broke through into his mind and Scud let out an rude noise as he got to his feet. "What the fuck?" He yelled it--knowing that there was no one around to hear it. That's why he yelled--because now was the time to do it. The cross was snatched up almost automatically.
He put it into the pocket of his jeans without even thinking about it. It's mine.
"It happened." He said, to the empty room, and to the white walls. "And who says it can't happen? Why can't it, anyway?" Anger was draining quickly, and Scud was left with dizzying confusion.
Why can't it happen?
Forehead was leaned against the bathroom counter--Scud had found his way into the bathroom and was now sitting on the toilet lid. The sound of running water boomed in his mind, because upon cleaning off his lip, he'd forgotten to turn the water off.
"Why? Why---" And then there was a noise in the other room. Something breaking.
Was Deacon home? Still angry?
Scud decided the only way to get the questions in his mind out was to ask. If Deacon was angry-- it didn't matter.
He'd confront. He'd question.
He'd probably end up begging. It didn't bother him at all.
Water was turned off, and he stalked into the main room---to find something that wasn't Deacon Frost.
Others. Five. Dressed and hooded in black. They were all lined up along the walls, looking straight at him and poised to pounce on their human prey. Why.. Why were they out to get ---him?
"F-fuck! No!" It was yelped out, and Scud was scrambling back--tripping over carpet and his own feet as hands grabbed him.
Everything was blurry and black after that.
-----
Tbc
-----
Next Chapter: "Deacon is gone. And now you will be punished for following another master."
Authors: empathicfrost (Frost) and theonemonaghan (Kacey)
Pairing: Deacon Frost / Scud ( frost_and_scud )
Rating: series NC-17 for language, violence and sex
Disclaimer: Not our stuff, but Kacey makes Frost listen to Scud’s theme song on the Blade 2 ST.
A/N: AU, but that doesn’t mean its not fun!
Summary: Its the pet's fault.
Previous Chapters: Part One, Part Two, Part Three , Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven
Chapter Eight:
Previously:
Deacon could see the blue eyes lower through partings in Scud's bangs but with a sigh, he brushed the hair back, leaving his fingers behind Scud's ear. Feline mouth held no fanged smirk, or growl, merely lay open until he breathed in.
"Don’t pull away."
And the gentle pressure of Deacon's hands led Scud's mouth to his.
------
Scud felt his head being tilted slightly to the side, and the soft start of a kiss being quickly deepened. He could taste his own blood in Deacon's mouth, and it didn't bother him. Josh liked it--and knew that Deacon craved more of it. And the human, who'd just been slapped and accused, had never, ever felt better.
Tongue was offered to Deacon, because Scud knew that blood from the inside of his cheek was coated along its tip. He trusted Deacon not to bite him without warning, and that trust made a big difference in his movements; hands found a balance hold on Deacon's waist, fingers curling to get a grip of the thin material of his shirt.
But when Scud's tongue passed between the gap of their parted lips, it was Deacon who drew a breath that inched back from the touch. He should not be doing this, this broke his own rules.
But the pet's breath was pulsing softly over his mouth and there were fingers grasping his waist and heavily lidded blue eyes asking him not to stop. Deacon had never wanted anything more than he wanted the human at that moment.
He never followed rules anyway.
Their lips reconnected with more insistence, melding and parting together this time. Deacon's fingers twisted into the portion of Scud's hair that he was holding and his cupping palm kept the human close to seek the honeyed tip of Scud's bloody tongue again and keep it. When the human's heat soaked into Deacon's chilled skin, the vampire pressed farther into his pet’s mouth, asked for more, the pronounced razors of his canines grazed the human's warm, nicotine sweetened lips and a hungry puff of air pushed from his nose because his mouth was sealed against another.
He did not want to break the fragile skin of Scud's constantly self-mutilated lips - Deacon's one thought lay in the relief of fully tasting his pet, in breathing in the warmth of the living body and breathing in the evident longing that kept them both going, until their teeth were clicking together more roughly and their position of sitting up was compromised when Deacon pushed Scud against the floor without parting their mouths, still searching this quickened, harsh craving for each other.
But the skin of those human lips broke anyway - blame it on the sudden, abrupt passion, the carelessness of lust and need, blame it on the way that Scud whimpered for more which turned Deacon thoughtless and too rough. It was beyond just a simple spill of blood over both of their lips, Deacon's hungry touch was painful against them.
Somehow, between the floor and the kiss, Scud found himself letting out a soft hiss. Pain. His lip-bleeding and more than before. It coated his tongue enough that he'd pulled away from Deacon's own in a moment of hesitance.
Blood that was dripping down the face and pooling slowly in the concave spot between lips and chin--it was frightening. It was painful.
Deacon wasn't frightening. No. Deacon was beautiful. But Deacon had been too rough. Scud automatically felt bad for tensing--for jerking his head back to the floor in pain.
His master was already so conflicted--and Scud was only making it worse. He felt the desire too--there was a pull whenever Deacon was around him and in reasonable mood. Any smile could send Scud soaring.
And any frown could do the exact opposite. The abusive words hurt, but the small smiles and interested looks along with subtle touches were enough to make Scud forget about the unpleasant.
That was why he felt bad now. Interrupting something that Scud probably wouldn't find solace in again for some time seemed like a sin. And so he chided himself inwardly and leaned his head up a little again, to pleadingly regain what he'd just broken away from.
But they had gone past the point of reconnecting. Deacon's blurry eyes were focused on the puncture wound of his own fangs in the wet mess covering Scud's bottom lip. The tender flesh oozing like a ripe piece of fruit that some animal had taken a bite of. Another of Deacon's marks on Scud's lip to accompany the tattoo of Deacon's glyph that was already there.
The vampire was scowling as hunger for the human and the blood battled. How could Scud be reaching up for his kiss with his lip like that? Did he want to please Deacon that much, sacrifice his own pleasure? Was this about making the master happy no matter what?
The soft, open look on Deacon's expression darkened into its usual contempt. Lust had caused his hand to move under Scud and pull him closer during the kiss, now warring confusion and guilt was tearing his hand away. Deacon pushed off of the human, and rolled onto his back on the floor beside him, hunger drumming under the vampire's skin and up through the blood in his ears.
Guilt tortured him alongside the hunger and Deacon was going mad now. There was a wet, sweetened flavor in his mouth that wasn’t blood and it taunted him with what he had done.
He had landed on something metal when he rolled onto his back, and Deacon picked up his own snapped cross necklace.
Scud's head bumped against the floor as Deacon snatched his hand away, and he let out a little sigh. This had been foreseen---it just happened faster than Josh had thought it would.
As Deacon rolled away, so did Scud. The pet moved to his side, and brought a hand up to his lip, as if his palm would stop the blood there. He wasn't ready to sit up yet--he felt too guilty to move--even though he wasn't exactly sure what he was feeling guilty about. Blue eyes were focused on Deacon, was still to the side of him. Scud was almost surprised that Frost hadn't already fled.
Instead of confronting the vampire about his hot and cold moments, Scud frowned mournfully at the shape in his masters' hand.
"My cross..." He spoke through his bloodied hand, and then tucked his lower lip into his mouth, hoping to lick away the mess that was there.
Deacon turned the silver symbol in his fingers - the black cord was only broken and could be fixed with a knot - the metal was tarnished with age. Deacon had had it for a very long time.
The ferocity of the vampire's scowl lessened enough for his brows to ease and his mouth to open. Eyes never left the necklace when he barely nodded his head. "Your cross." Deacon pushed the silver and it's broken cord across the floor between them before he stood up, the hunger still churning through him as arousal was battled away by his own will power.
Your cross. It's yours and that makes you mine. But you don’t own me. We’re not equals. I'll never be an equal with a human. This is all it can be. Master and pet.
"What just happened - forget it, it never happened." The growl rolled up from his chest. "It can’t happen."
Deacon left the room, and shortly after the front door closed as well. He wouldn’t return for the rest of the night.
Staring at the doorway that Deacon had walked through a few minutes before was depressing. Scud couldn't help it though--something inside of him hurt, and it wasn't his bleeding lip.
Annoyance broke through into his mind and Scud let out an rude noise as he got to his feet. "What the fuck?" He yelled it--knowing that there was no one around to hear it. That's why he yelled--because now was the time to do it. The cross was snatched up almost automatically.
He put it into the pocket of his jeans without even thinking about it. It's mine.
"It happened." He said, to the empty room, and to the white walls. "And who says it can't happen? Why can't it, anyway?" Anger was draining quickly, and Scud was left with dizzying confusion.
Why can't it happen?
Forehead was leaned against the bathroom counter--Scud had found his way into the bathroom and was now sitting on the toilet lid. The sound of running water boomed in his mind, because upon cleaning off his lip, he'd forgotten to turn the water off.
"Why? Why---" And then there was a noise in the other room. Something breaking.
Was Deacon home? Still angry?
Scud decided the only way to get the questions in his mind out was to ask. If Deacon was angry-- it didn't matter.
He'd confront. He'd question.
He'd probably end up begging. It didn't bother him at all.
Water was turned off, and he stalked into the main room---to find something that wasn't Deacon Frost.
Others. Five. Dressed and hooded in black. They were all lined up along the walls, looking straight at him and poised to pounce on their human prey. Why.. Why were they out to get ---him?
"F-fuck! No!" It was yelped out, and Scud was scrambling back--tripping over carpet and his own feet as hands grabbed him.
Everything was blurry and black after that.
-----
Tbc
-----
Next Chapter: "Deacon is gone. And now you will be punished for following another master."