Fic ; Where everything meets (there is you and me.)
Title : Where everything meets (there is you and me.)
Rating : The heavier side of R.
Pairing : Godric/Eric (True Blood)
Summary : How can a vampire love?
Notes : This was written on a whim. I don't really know how it came to be but it did. There are a couple Swedish words which are translated at the bottom. I don't speak Swedish so this is relying on the lovely world of online dictionaries to give me the correct words. Apologies if it's not. Thank you to Rabi and Britt who helped cheer me on while writing this and Cael and Lizzie who gave me their thoughts on things.
Eric often wonders if it's possible to taste time in a kiss. Saliva isn't like blood, not as warm or delicate, but when Godric's lips touch his it's like kissing two thousand years of beautiful things.
Godric's skin hasn't aged a day, pale and hidden from the harsh exposure of an unforgiving sun. It's like silk beneath Eric's fingers, so cold and seemingly fragile.
And Eric can remember Godric's eyes on the night he died and lived again. So black, like the darkest void he's ever seen, smoke clouding all rational thought. That's gone now, a cloud left in the past. Looking at Godric now his eyes are caring, and with the lift of impossibly long eyelashes Eric can feel arms wrap around him, body and soul.
Godric's the only thing that can make him feel heat anymore. It's a blanket of peace and joy, and the smile on Godric's lips as they kiss vibrates through Eric's entire body. Down through his bones, and into his stomach where blood that isn't his rests.
Godric's clothes are easy to remove, baggy against his body that's scultped like a God. He's stone, perfection formed by something that's not of this Earth. Every line is a careful and precise mark. The curve of his hips like a welcoming to the curl of hair resting against livid skin.
The cold of Eric's fingers meets the warmth of Godric's heart, and it's intense. So hot and thick like the the cock pressed between Godric's strong legs.
He's always so slow and careful. Lips wrapping tightly around the head and sucking with a sound that puts a sick twist in the Texas air. Godric's rubbing the back of his head, praising him for every lick and hum, and it's odd because there on his knees it's Eric who is worshipping his maker.
Eric would be there for days if Godric allowed him, taking his cock in and tasting the sweet musk of the man Godric once was.
"Come, my child." Godric's voice is rough and worn like leather, sex covered and pure sin. Eric raises to look in those eyes, and know that now this is Godric offering himself, vulnerable and looking so breakable unlike the death radiating through every corner of his body.
The sheets are black, and Godric's a piece of artwork against their satin shine. His eyes are closed and legs spread, wide and enticing and awaiting the press of Eric's cock. And he could do it, push right in to the warmth, feel blood pool around his cock from the split in Godric's body, but he doesn't.
Godric looks at him in surprise, and then smiles when Eric slips his fingers gently in. He scissors in patiently until Godric's moaning in Swedish and thrusting down into Eric's hand.
"Snälla." Godric begs, and Eric's never denied him.
It only takes a hitch of the clock, a smooth push and he's inside, the closest he can possibly be to Godric. He's in his body, and his mind, and every bare inch of his exposed soul. And Godric's in Eric's, delved so deep it's impossible to tear Godric from any part of him.
In that moment, the slow thrusts that speed up as the heat between them lights on fire, this is everything. Life and death is beneath him, coursing through him, loving him.
Godric's hands are grabbing at Eric's arms, gripping tight as he pushes back with a tight fervor.
How can a vampire love? For every time the question has been asked, they answer it with another thrust. A vampire can love. A vampire does love. And when he does, when he lets it consume him, that's when he's more human then he ever was in all his years of life.
"Nu, Eric!"
His movement stutters, and Godric comes apart, arching like a fucking biblical angel into Eric. And Eric meets him there, at the peek of all vivid experiences throughout centuries of life, and comes inside.
Yeah, Eric thinks. This is how a vampire loves. No blood, no pain, just a vampire and his maker wrapped in each other.
(Translations : Snälla = please. Nu = now.)
Rating : The heavier side of R.
Pairing : Godric/Eric (True Blood)
Summary : How can a vampire love?
Notes : This was written on a whim. I don't really know how it came to be but it did. There are a couple Swedish words which are translated at the bottom. I don't speak Swedish so this is relying on the lovely world of online dictionaries to give me the correct words. Apologies if it's not. Thank you to Rabi and Britt who helped cheer me on while writing this and Cael and Lizzie who gave me their thoughts on things.
Eric often wonders if it's possible to taste time in a kiss. Saliva isn't like blood, not as warm or delicate, but when Godric's lips touch his it's like kissing two thousand years of beautiful things.
Godric's skin hasn't aged a day, pale and hidden from the harsh exposure of an unforgiving sun. It's like silk beneath Eric's fingers, so cold and seemingly fragile.
And Eric can remember Godric's eyes on the night he died and lived again. So black, like the darkest void he's ever seen, smoke clouding all rational thought. That's gone now, a cloud left in the past. Looking at Godric now his eyes are caring, and with the lift of impossibly long eyelashes Eric can feel arms wrap around him, body and soul.
Godric's the only thing that can make him feel heat anymore. It's a blanket of peace and joy, and the smile on Godric's lips as they kiss vibrates through Eric's entire body. Down through his bones, and into his stomach where blood that isn't his rests.
Godric's clothes are easy to remove, baggy against his body that's scultped like a God. He's stone, perfection formed by something that's not of this Earth. Every line is a careful and precise mark. The curve of his hips like a welcoming to the curl of hair resting against livid skin.
The cold of Eric's fingers meets the warmth of Godric's heart, and it's intense. So hot and thick like the the cock pressed between Godric's strong legs.
He's always so slow and careful. Lips wrapping tightly around the head and sucking with a sound that puts a sick twist in the Texas air. Godric's rubbing the back of his head, praising him for every lick and hum, and it's odd because there on his knees it's Eric who is worshipping his maker.
Eric would be there for days if Godric allowed him, taking his cock in and tasting the sweet musk of the man Godric once was.
"Come, my child." Godric's voice is rough and worn like leather, sex covered and pure sin. Eric raises to look in those eyes, and know that now this is Godric offering himself, vulnerable and looking so breakable unlike the death radiating through every corner of his body.
The sheets are black, and Godric's a piece of artwork against their satin shine. His eyes are closed and legs spread, wide and enticing and awaiting the press of Eric's cock. And he could do it, push right in to the warmth, feel blood pool around his cock from the split in Godric's body, but he doesn't.
Godric looks at him in surprise, and then smiles when Eric slips his fingers gently in. He scissors in patiently until Godric's moaning in Swedish and thrusting down into Eric's hand.
"Snälla." Godric begs, and Eric's never denied him.
It only takes a hitch of the clock, a smooth push and he's inside, the closest he can possibly be to Godric. He's in his body, and his mind, and every bare inch of his exposed soul. And Godric's in Eric's, delved so deep it's impossible to tear Godric from any part of him.
In that moment, the slow thrusts that speed up as the heat between them lights on fire, this is everything. Life and death is beneath him, coursing through him, loving him.
Godric's hands are grabbing at Eric's arms, gripping tight as he pushes back with a tight fervor.
How can a vampire love? For every time the question has been asked, they answer it with another thrust. A vampire can love. A vampire does love. And when he does, when he lets it consume him, that's when he's more human then he ever was in all his years of life.
"Nu, Eric!"
His movement stutters, and Godric comes apart, arching like a fucking biblical angel into Eric. And Eric meets him there, at the peek of all vivid experiences throughout centuries of life, and comes inside.
Yeah, Eric thinks. This is how a vampire loves. No blood, no pain, just a vampire and his maker wrapped in each other.
(Translations : Snälla = please. Nu = now.)