fill: counting bodies like sheep - knotting, underaged, dub/non-con, violence, incest - 6/10
anonymous
December 8 2011, 02:22:49 UTC
The resulting flash of regret from Erik was enough though, for his temper to abide. He put his hand forward, and Erik flinched as if he was about to be hit, but Charles only pressed his palm to his face, smeared the blood across his cheek, his chin, and finally his mouth. Erik grabbed it at some point, held it to his lips and sucked until the wound started bleeding even more freely, and Charles felt dizzy for a moment, but eventually it passed and he just settled down on the hay next to Erik, slid close to him until their bodies were pressed together.
When Erik released his hand Charles kissed him, slid his tongue between his teeth to taste his own blood mingling with Erik's scent. Erik pulled away after a while, turned his head to the ceiling.
"We're near the city," he said, his voice tinged with awe.
"How can you tell," Charles mumbled drowsily. But he wasn't wrong. When Charles cast his mind out he could hear a crush of voices, enough of them that he had to consciously pull back, wall himself off from it in case he got lost.
Emma would venture close to the city sometimes to hunt, but she always returned complaining of a headache, and she would tell Charles, "It's vulgar, the loudness of all their voices. I can only shut it out for so long before I want to vomit."
Erik said though, and again he was awed, and yearning. "There's so much metal there. I can feel it. It's beautiful."
"Yes," Charles said, staring at Erik.
"Stop it." He growled again, and tucked his head under Charles' chin. His chest was still heaving slightly when he said, "Why do you want this so badly."
"Because I want you."
"Yes, but why."
"Because. Don't you ever think about me, Erik." He brought his hand up to the nape of Erik's neck, buried his fingers in his hair. "Because I think about you all the time." To the point of distraction. Lack of sleep, lack of focus. Always: Erik Erik Erik.
"Not that way." He hesitated before he added, softly, "Not before now."
"You don't have to be afraid." Charles let a tinge of persuasion enter his voice, his thoughts, but Erik wasn't convinced at all. Instead he stiffened, but when he tried to pull away Charles held him still. "Don't," he said. "I don't want to chase you again."
"What did you do," Erik said, his voice small and scared as he tried once again, futilely, to pull away, but his body was frozen into place. Another trick Charles learnt from Emma, though he was far better at it than she was, as much as she tried to convince herself it wasn't true.
"Nothing. Just made it so you can't shift out. I'll make it stop if you promise to stay."
"No, I will not-" He shook his head angrily, but when Charles refused to budge he gave up quickly enough, said, with some sullenness, "I promise."
"Your word, Erik."
"My word," Erik choked the word out, and Charles released him.
"I hate you," Erik said, the second he was free, fists flailing at Charles until Charles had to grab them, twist them behind his heaving chest. "I didn't promise I wouldn't hit you," he said, as Charles tentatively probed at his split open lower lip with his tongue, where one of Erik's fists had managed to land.
"You don't hate me," Charles said. He spit out blood, and some of it landed on Erik's chest. Erik struggled again, and tightened his grip until he was certain it hurt. "Stop it or I swear," he said, making his voice mild, like Father's at his most dangerous, and Erik immediately stilled, although his breath hitched. "I will let you go if you promise - just don't try to get away. is that clear enough." Erik nodded mutely.
When Erik released his hand Charles kissed him, slid his tongue between his teeth to taste his own blood mingling with Erik's scent. Erik pulled away after a while, turned his head to the ceiling.
"We're near the city," he said, his voice tinged with awe.
"How can you tell," Charles mumbled drowsily. But he wasn't wrong. When Charles cast his mind out he could hear a crush of voices, enough of them that he had to consciously pull back, wall himself off from it in case he got lost.
Emma would venture close to the city sometimes to hunt, but she always returned complaining of a headache, and she would tell Charles, "It's vulgar, the loudness of all their voices. I can only shut it out for so long before I want to vomit."
Erik said though, and again he was awed, and yearning. "There's so much metal there. I can feel it. It's beautiful."
"Yes," Charles said, staring at Erik.
"Stop it." He growled again, and tucked his head under Charles' chin. His chest was still heaving slightly when he said, "Why do you want this so badly."
"Because I want you."
"Yes, but why."
"Because. Don't you ever think about me, Erik." He brought his hand up to the nape of Erik's neck, buried his fingers in his hair. "Because I think about you all the time." To the point of distraction. Lack of sleep, lack of focus. Always: Erik Erik Erik.
"Not that way." He hesitated before he added, softly, "Not before now."
"You don't have to be afraid." Charles let a tinge of persuasion enter his voice, his thoughts, but Erik wasn't convinced at all. Instead he stiffened, but when he tried to pull away Charles held him still. "Don't," he said. "I don't want to chase you again."
"What did you do," Erik said, his voice small and scared as he tried once again, futilely, to pull away, but his body was frozen into place. Another trick Charles learnt from Emma, though he was far better at it than she was, as much as she tried to convince herself it wasn't true.
"Nothing. Just made it so you can't shift out. I'll make it stop if you promise to stay."
"No, I will not-" He shook his head angrily, but when Charles refused to budge he gave up quickly enough, said, with some sullenness, "I promise."
"Your word, Erik."
"My word," Erik choked the word out, and Charles released him.
"I hate you," Erik said, the second he was free, fists flailing at Charles until Charles had to grab them, twist them behind his heaving chest. "I didn't promise I wouldn't hit you," he said, as Charles tentatively probed at his split open lower lip with his tongue, where one of Erik's fists had managed to land.
"You don't hate me," Charles said. He spit out blood, and some of it landed on Erik's chest. Erik struggled again, and tightened his grip until he was certain it hurt. "Stop it or I swear," he said, making his voice mild, like Father's at his most dangerous, and Erik immediately stilled, although his breath hitched. "I will let you go if you promise - just don't try to get away. is that clear enough." Erik nodded mutely.
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