Blood Siren
Title: Blood Siren
Pairing: Yoochun/Junsu
Rating: borderline NC-17
Warnings: slight blood play
Summary: He was given to him. Not literally fallen out of the sky, but very nearly handed over on something highly resembling a large silver platter.
A/N: Vamp!fic because every writer secretly or not-so-secretly wants to/has already written one :D
He was given to him. Not literally fallen out of the sky, but very nearly handed over on something highly resembling a large silver platter.
He came in, hands chained and led blindly into the dark room, only to be halted and made to stand on a large, shining diskette raised from the floor. Others stood beside him a little ways apart on similar platforms, but Junsu had eyes only for the broad-shouldered human, his Guides directing his gaze to him.
That’s him! That’s him! They tittered, hushed whispers full of ill-concealed excitement. Junsu had a shallow idea of why they were so enthusiastic. The man was pleasant on the eyes: body lean, shoulders broad, waist trim. Dark hair curled to brush just above his shoulders, a few tendrils escaping what Junsu hoped wasn’t a very tight fold. The set of a stubborn jaw cradled a determined chin and a chapped, but pink mouth. Well-defined cheekbones and a strong nose peeked out from behind the cloth, giving Junsu a teasing glimpse of the handsome face underneath.
He stood ramrod straight, like all Slaves were taught: body relaxed yet attentive, legs shoulder width apart, and hands clasped and chained in front of him. A stance that made them look submissive, yet allowed for easy perusal and consideration of their physical attributes. At his Guides’ behest, Junsu continued to eye the man like he was supposed to. After a moment of critical deliberation, Junsu came to the conclusion that, though he appeared to be handsome and in suitably good health, he was nothing special.
Junsu’s eyes wandered, wanting to take in the other bounty laid out before him, but whether due to his Guides’ insistence or his own growing curiosity, Junsu’s gaze found the man time and time again. Maybe it was the thought that he was hand-picked especially for him, but there was something about the man that appealed to Junsu.
Junsu wasn’t the picky type, and neither was he overly possessive, but just the thought of owning something-in this case someone-making it completely his made him unreasonably giddy. He looked over the rest out of courtesy; he’d already subconsciously decided. All the rest were either too tall, too thin, too muscular, too feminine. None of them seemed to catch his eye like that Slave did.
After a while, he gave up the pretense of being interested in anyone else and gestured silently for the rest to be led out. His Guides continued to titter, pleased that he’d heeded their suggestion before walking out themselves.
The doors closed heavily behind them and the moment they were left alone Junsu could literally smell his sudden change of demeanor. Without others to obscure his scent, Junsu smelled fear rolling off him in waves, starting with a little apprehensive trickle before gradually becoming full-blown anxiety. He tried not to show it, to stand still, but the prolonged silence made him nervous and uncertain of what would happen next.
Junsu didn’t need eyes to see the pulse fluttering erratically at the other man’s throat, to taste the steady push of blood just below the surface of skin. It called out to him with the promise of power and of quenching the never-ending thirst. “Take off the blinds,” he said from his cushioned seat and he let his voice be filled with that cool, seductive power of the grave and grinned when the command was hurriedly obeyed. Chains rattled as arms were lifted to remove the cloth, the careful way he moved with the metal ropes belying the fact that he was used to having them on.
Junsu waited patiently, content to be satisfied by the ripple of muscle on the man’s lithe frame. Soon, the blinds came off and Junsu was left staring at a complete beauty. Dark chocolate orbs blinked back at him, trying to adjust to the sudden light. They complemented his features perfectly, the vast brown depths ringed with lashes so long and thick they seemed like dark lace upon his skin. Junsu smiled, suddenly happier with his decision.
“Come,” he beckoned softly, voice still filled with that other-worldly power. Still placating, still mesmerizing, still aware of that emanating fear. He didn’t want to be feared, not by this man. Slowly, chains dragging, the other stood before him but too far away. Junsu bid him to come closer still, until any closer meant climbing into Junsu’s lap.
Junsu eyed him up close, silently marveling at the magnified beauty face to face. “What do they call you?” he asked, keeping his hands to himself but letting his power roam and caress the other’s skin. It was more intimate than any physical touch could ever be, the subtle exploration like a deep probing of the soul.
“Yoochun,” the man said breathily, eyes at half-mast with the sensations of Junsu’s probing. He shivered as the power ran up and down his spine, fanning out to engulf his shoulders, racing up his neck and throat, down his chest to circle lightly at sensitive nipples.
“You are a Slave, brought up and nurtured especially for our kind,” Junsu murmured softly, so softly that if Yoochun hadn’t been so close, he wouldn’t have heard it. “Do you know how we feed?” It was a rhetorical question of course, one that didn’t need an answer but Junsu asked anyway because he liked the expressive play of emotions on Yoochun’s face.
“Blood,” the Slave answered, eyes half closed with the invisible caresses. A soft groan passed his mouth unbidden. It felt like real hands were touching him, knowing him, except there were places real hands could never go or ever reach.
“Good answer.” Junsu said with a smile wide enough to flash pointed teeth. “But did you know that there are other ways to feed? Things that can be done to make the simple act of feeding more…pleasurable?” he injected the word with power and was pleased when Yoochun shuddered with the sensation of ghost fingers sliding lower and lower to his groin. They hovered over his cock, teasing and barely there.
He swayed on his feet, weak-kneed and feeling too warm. Junsu hadn’t even touched him yet.
A simple tug changed that and Yoochun was sprawled onto Junsu’s lap, back curved into Junsu’s chest. Steady hands caught him easily around the waist, fingers wasting no time in drawing lazy circles onto the exposed skin where the white of the cloth draped over his body had escaped from matching trousers. “What say you, then? Shall you feed me, Yoochun-ah?” He pulled his power back, just a touch, wanting Yoochun to want this too-of his own accord and not because Junsu could roll his mind and make him his.
“Please please please,” Yoochun chanted in a low whisper, hands clenched into the expensive fabric of Junsu’s clothes. His body was tight with need, desire and lust thrumming in his veins in a way he’d never felt before. Yoochun knew of such things, had been taught of the simple pleasure his body could give to any Master willing to take him. But never, never was it like this.
“Excellent,” Junsu grinned, voice lower than his usual, poised and ready for seduction.
He kissed him first, slowly, tentatively, getting Yoochun used to the feel of their lips touching. There was an art to kissing vampires, Junsu knew, but Yoochun seemed like a quick study. Already he was arching into it, chasing back more of Junsu’s mouth. Junsu didn’t try to slow him, the bloodlust rising in himself too quickly.
Junsu felt right with this man, an instant connection he’d question later, when he wasn’t drowning in the slow, musical thud of Yoochun’s pulse. He could always wait longer, revel more in Yoochun’s mouth, but there was no need. Yoochun offered himself willingly, enthusiasm abundant in the way he squirmed in Junsu’s lap. Junsu liked that, rewarding him with a sly hand reaching into his trousers for a tentative grip around Yoochun’s cock. He was already hard, sensitive to Junsu’s exploring touch.
With a whimper from Yoochun, Junsu broke away from their kiss, focusing his attention on sliding off Yoochun’s loose pants. He wanted Yoochun to watch his hands while he pleasured him, to feel every stroke, and keen at every touch, take him straight to the edge before breaking skin. He shifted, pulling Yoochun more firmly against him so that his head rested on Junsu’s shoulder and Junsu had more better access to the vein throbbing in Yoochun’s neck.
It was slightly uncomfortable; Junsu’s own cock no doubt poking against Yoochun’s back, but Junsu ignored it for something so much more gratifying than just sexual pleasure. Yoochun’s blood called to him, and Junsu would answer. “So eager, Yoochun-ah,” Junsu whispered into his ear, scraping teeth across the tender flesh when Yoochun jerked against him. Junsu was thumbing the head of his cock, swirling sticky liquid against the tip.
He was close, the steady stream of pearly white seeping out of his cock a clear indication of his impending orgasm. His body was strung tight, tension lining every muscle as he leaned against Junsu, hands gripping the chair’s armrests. Junsu pumped his cock, liking the way Yoochun whined, following Junsu’s hands with thrusts of his hips. Yoochun’s face was contorted in an expression of pleasure-pain, head thrown back, and neck arched in the perfect invitation.
His throat was flawless, unmarred, and really, there’s no way Junsu could hold back anymore. His hands sped up, grip tight, and Yoochun cried out, a loud groan deteriorating into a breathless gasp. His heart raced, blood pumping hard enough for a visible throb in his neck. Junsu listened for that perfect moment when Yoochun’s body was no longer his own, slave to baser desires, when his muscles seized and his heart went on overdrive. Then he struck.
Wasting no time, Junsu bit into his neck, pooling power around the bite so Yoochun could ride wave after wave of pleasure as Junsu drank his fill. Yoochun tasted so good, his blood so sweet, so warm; intoxicating. Junsu floated on a sea of crimson silk, every swallow a smooth give and take of pleasure he made sure Yoochun felt too.
It was difficult, but Junsu took care not to just drink and drink, to become too drunk and be unable to stop. He retracted his fangs, the sound of retreating teeth from flesh almost regretful. He licked at the wounds, a shiver going down the length of Yoochun’s now pliant body as his tongue circled the bleeding holes. They bled more, his saliva keeping the blood from clotting.
He kissed Yoochun’s neck, smiling against the skin before extracting his hand from Yoochun’s now-sated cock, fingers glistening with Yoochun’s come. He licked the tip of a finger, tongue curling around the taste of Yoochun on his hands. It was salty, the bittersweet tang mixing with Yoochun’s blood better than any aphrodisiac. Just a taste and Junsu was already hooked. There could be no one else, Junsu knew that now. No other would taste as sweet or satisfy him more.
“Shall I make you mine, Yoochun-ah?” he asked in a husky whisper, holding his palm up to Yoochun’s mouth, prompting him to lick at a drip of come running down his wrist. Yoochun’s tongue darted out, breath speeding up as he tasted himself on Junsu’s hand. He nodded vigorously, kissing the soft skin, now warm where his blood flowed through Junsu’s body.
Junsu’s nostrils flared at the sight of Yoochun’s mouth on such a delicate part of his body, where blood ran fast and free. The thought of Yoochun’s mouth on other parts of him was enough to make the bloodlust roar through his head again, demanding to be appeased. This time it was possessive, no longer hungry but eager to mark, to own-to make Yoochun his.
There was no need to deny the hunger, not when Junsu himself felt this was right. Reluctantly, he pulled his wrist away from Yoochun’s eager mouth, pleased at the purple bruise blooming on the surface of his skin. “I’ll take that as I yes,” He said with a grin, kissing Yoochun’s cheek before baring fangs once again. He pierced his own skin, watching Yoochun’s hungry gaze with his own.
And Junsu knew it meant forever.
A/N: So, this has been sitting on my comp for the longest time. I had the urge to finish it up, so here it is :D kekeke, also, look forward to more in this verse, not necessarily YooSu but…I’ve got other OTP’s wanting to be written in vampire!verse.
As always, comments are ♥ so leave one if you liked :D
Pairing: Yoochun/Junsu
Rating: borderline NC-17
Warnings: slight blood play
Summary: He was given to him. Not literally fallen out of the sky, but very nearly handed over on something highly resembling a large silver platter.
A/N: Vamp!fic because every writer secretly or not-so-secretly wants to/has already written one :D
He was given to him. Not literally fallen out of the sky, but very nearly handed over on something highly resembling a large silver platter.
He came in, hands chained and led blindly into the dark room, only to be halted and made to stand on a large, shining diskette raised from the floor. Others stood beside him a little ways apart on similar platforms, but Junsu had eyes only for the broad-shouldered human, his Guides directing his gaze to him.
That’s him! That’s him! They tittered, hushed whispers full of ill-concealed excitement. Junsu had a shallow idea of why they were so enthusiastic. The man was pleasant on the eyes: body lean, shoulders broad, waist trim. Dark hair curled to brush just above his shoulders, a few tendrils escaping what Junsu hoped wasn’t a very tight fold. The set of a stubborn jaw cradled a determined chin and a chapped, but pink mouth. Well-defined cheekbones and a strong nose peeked out from behind the cloth, giving Junsu a teasing glimpse of the handsome face underneath.
He stood ramrod straight, like all Slaves were taught: body relaxed yet attentive, legs shoulder width apart, and hands clasped and chained in front of him. A stance that made them look submissive, yet allowed for easy perusal and consideration of their physical attributes. At his Guides’ behest, Junsu continued to eye the man like he was supposed to. After a moment of critical deliberation, Junsu came to the conclusion that, though he appeared to be handsome and in suitably good health, he was nothing special.
Junsu’s eyes wandered, wanting to take in the other bounty laid out before him, but whether due to his Guides’ insistence or his own growing curiosity, Junsu’s gaze found the man time and time again. Maybe it was the thought that he was hand-picked especially for him, but there was something about the man that appealed to Junsu.
Junsu wasn’t the picky type, and neither was he overly possessive, but just the thought of owning something-in this case someone-making it completely his made him unreasonably giddy. He looked over the rest out of courtesy; he’d already subconsciously decided. All the rest were either too tall, too thin, too muscular, too feminine. None of them seemed to catch his eye like that Slave did.
After a while, he gave up the pretense of being interested in anyone else and gestured silently for the rest to be led out. His Guides continued to titter, pleased that he’d heeded their suggestion before walking out themselves.
The doors closed heavily behind them and the moment they were left alone Junsu could literally smell his sudden change of demeanor. Without others to obscure his scent, Junsu smelled fear rolling off him in waves, starting with a little apprehensive trickle before gradually becoming full-blown anxiety. He tried not to show it, to stand still, but the prolonged silence made him nervous and uncertain of what would happen next.
Junsu didn’t need eyes to see the pulse fluttering erratically at the other man’s throat, to taste the steady push of blood just below the surface of skin. It called out to him with the promise of power and of quenching the never-ending thirst. “Take off the blinds,” he said from his cushioned seat and he let his voice be filled with that cool, seductive power of the grave and grinned when the command was hurriedly obeyed. Chains rattled as arms were lifted to remove the cloth, the careful way he moved with the metal ropes belying the fact that he was used to having them on.
Junsu waited patiently, content to be satisfied by the ripple of muscle on the man’s lithe frame. Soon, the blinds came off and Junsu was left staring at a complete beauty. Dark chocolate orbs blinked back at him, trying to adjust to the sudden light. They complemented his features perfectly, the vast brown depths ringed with lashes so long and thick they seemed like dark lace upon his skin. Junsu smiled, suddenly happier with his decision.
“Come,” he beckoned softly, voice still filled with that other-worldly power. Still placating, still mesmerizing, still aware of that emanating fear. He didn’t want to be feared, not by this man. Slowly, chains dragging, the other stood before him but too far away. Junsu bid him to come closer still, until any closer meant climbing into Junsu’s lap.
Junsu eyed him up close, silently marveling at the magnified beauty face to face. “What do they call you?” he asked, keeping his hands to himself but letting his power roam and caress the other’s skin. It was more intimate than any physical touch could ever be, the subtle exploration like a deep probing of the soul.
“Yoochun,” the man said breathily, eyes at half-mast with the sensations of Junsu’s probing. He shivered as the power ran up and down his spine, fanning out to engulf his shoulders, racing up his neck and throat, down his chest to circle lightly at sensitive nipples.
“You are a Slave, brought up and nurtured especially for our kind,” Junsu murmured softly, so softly that if Yoochun hadn’t been so close, he wouldn’t have heard it. “Do you know how we feed?” It was a rhetorical question of course, one that didn’t need an answer but Junsu asked anyway because he liked the expressive play of emotions on Yoochun’s face.
“Blood,” the Slave answered, eyes half closed with the invisible caresses. A soft groan passed his mouth unbidden. It felt like real hands were touching him, knowing him, except there were places real hands could never go or ever reach.
“Good answer.” Junsu said with a smile wide enough to flash pointed teeth. “But did you know that there are other ways to feed? Things that can be done to make the simple act of feeding more…pleasurable?” he injected the word with power and was pleased when Yoochun shuddered with the sensation of ghost fingers sliding lower and lower to his groin. They hovered over his cock, teasing and barely there.
He swayed on his feet, weak-kneed and feeling too warm. Junsu hadn’t even touched him yet.
A simple tug changed that and Yoochun was sprawled onto Junsu’s lap, back curved into Junsu’s chest. Steady hands caught him easily around the waist, fingers wasting no time in drawing lazy circles onto the exposed skin where the white of the cloth draped over his body had escaped from matching trousers. “What say you, then? Shall you feed me, Yoochun-ah?” He pulled his power back, just a touch, wanting Yoochun to want this too-of his own accord and not because Junsu could roll his mind and make him his.
“Please please please,” Yoochun chanted in a low whisper, hands clenched into the expensive fabric of Junsu’s clothes. His body was tight with need, desire and lust thrumming in his veins in a way he’d never felt before. Yoochun knew of such things, had been taught of the simple pleasure his body could give to any Master willing to take him. But never, never was it like this.
“Excellent,” Junsu grinned, voice lower than his usual, poised and ready for seduction.
He kissed him first, slowly, tentatively, getting Yoochun used to the feel of their lips touching. There was an art to kissing vampires, Junsu knew, but Yoochun seemed like a quick study. Already he was arching into it, chasing back more of Junsu’s mouth. Junsu didn’t try to slow him, the bloodlust rising in himself too quickly.
Junsu felt right with this man, an instant connection he’d question later, when he wasn’t drowning in the slow, musical thud of Yoochun’s pulse. He could always wait longer, revel more in Yoochun’s mouth, but there was no need. Yoochun offered himself willingly, enthusiasm abundant in the way he squirmed in Junsu’s lap. Junsu liked that, rewarding him with a sly hand reaching into his trousers for a tentative grip around Yoochun’s cock. He was already hard, sensitive to Junsu’s exploring touch.
With a whimper from Yoochun, Junsu broke away from their kiss, focusing his attention on sliding off Yoochun’s loose pants. He wanted Yoochun to watch his hands while he pleasured him, to feel every stroke, and keen at every touch, take him straight to the edge before breaking skin. He shifted, pulling Yoochun more firmly against him so that his head rested on Junsu’s shoulder and Junsu had more better access to the vein throbbing in Yoochun’s neck.
It was slightly uncomfortable; Junsu’s own cock no doubt poking against Yoochun’s back, but Junsu ignored it for something so much more gratifying than just sexual pleasure. Yoochun’s blood called to him, and Junsu would answer. “So eager, Yoochun-ah,” Junsu whispered into his ear, scraping teeth across the tender flesh when Yoochun jerked against him. Junsu was thumbing the head of his cock, swirling sticky liquid against the tip.
He was close, the steady stream of pearly white seeping out of his cock a clear indication of his impending orgasm. His body was strung tight, tension lining every muscle as he leaned against Junsu, hands gripping the chair’s armrests. Junsu pumped his cock, liking the way Yoochun whined, following Junsu’s hands with thrusts of his hips. Yoochun’s face was contorted in an expression of pleasure-pain, head thrown back, and neck arched in the perfect invitation.
His throat was flawless, unmarred, and really, there’s no way Junsu could hold back anymore. His hands sped up, grip tight, and Yoochun cried out, a loud groan deteriorating into a breathless gasp. His heart raced, blood pumping hard enough for a visible throb in his neck. Junsu listened for that perfect moment when Yoochun’s body was no longer his own, slave to baser desires, when his muscles seized and his heart went on overdrive. Then he struck.
Wasting no time, Junsu bit into his neck, pooling power around the bite so Yoochun could ride wave after wave of pleasure as Junsu drank his fill. Yoochun tasted so good, his blood so sweet, so warm; intoxicating. Junsu floated on a sea of crimson silk, every swallow a smooth give and take of pleasure he made sure Yoochun felt too.
It was difficult, but Junsu took care not to just drink and drink, to become too drunk and be unable to stop. He retracted his fangs, the sound of retreating teeth from flesh almost regretful. He licked at the wounds, a shiver going down the length of Yoochun’s now pliant body as his tongue circled the bleeding holes. They bled more, his saliva keeping the blood from clotting.
He kissed Yoochun’s neck, smiling against the skin before extracting his hand from Yoochun’s now-sated cock, fingers glistening with Yoochun’s come. He licked the tip of a finger, tongue curling around the taste of Yoochun on his hands. It was salty, the bittersweet tang mixing with Yoochun’s blood better than any aphrodisiac. Just a taste and Junsu was already hooked. There could be no one else, Junsu knew that now. No other would taste as sweet or satisfy him more.
“Shall I make you mine, Yoochun-ah?” he asked in a husky whisper, holding his palm up to Yoochun’s mouth, prompting him to lick at a drip of come running down his wrist. Yoochun’s tongue darted out, breath speeding up as he tasted himself on Junsu’s hand. He nodded vigorously, kissing the soft skin, now warm where his blood flowed through Junsu’s body.
Junsu’s nostrils flared at the sight of Yoochun’s mouth on such a delicate part of his body, where blood ran fast and free. The thought of Yoochun’s mouth on other parts of him was enough to make the bloodlust roar through his head again, demanding to be appeased. This time it was possessive, no longer hungry but eager to mark, to own-to make Yoochun his.
There was no need to deny the hunger, not when Junsu himself felt this was right. Reluctantly, he pulled his wrist away from Yoochun’s eager mouth, pleased at the purple bruise blooming on the surface of his skin. “I’ll take that as I yes,” He said with a grin, kissing Yoochun’s cheek before baring fangs once again. He pierced his own skin, watching Yoochun’s hungry gaze with his own.
And Junsu knew it meant forever.
A/N: So, this has been sitting on my comp for the longest time. I had the urge to finish it up, so here it is :D kekeke, also, look forward to more in this verse, not necessarily YooSu but…I’ve got other OTP’s wanting to be written in vampire!verse.
As always, comments are ♥ so leave one if you liked :D