The Gratuitous Vampire AU - Part 4
Title: Sign of the Cross (a.k.a. the Completely Gratuitous Guilty Gear Vampire AU)
Summary: Gears or vampires, it's all just another day's work for the Holy Order. But they never do quite manage to screen some of their more unusual recruits as carefully as they ought to either.
Characters/Pairing: Sol/Ky
Chapter: 4 of 5
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4690
Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
The walk back to headquarters passes in a blur. Ky hardly registers whatever excuse he makes to the gate wardens for Sol's tattered state - the truth, probably: Sol got into a fight with a powerful vampire, but his uniform suffered for it far worse than he himself did. The guards are scarcely going to try any harder to stop two such important persons when they're in no mood to be stopped. Sol all but barges straight past them, Ky trailing explanations in his wake.
It's on his shoulders that they lost that vampire before Sol had the chance to finish the job, but Sol hasn't mentioned it all the way back. Responsibility for that has been prickling like a burr stuck in the back of his mind ever since, but it's only now that he gets to framing the thought that Sol has given up the hunt for this - for him. As well as Ky knows Sol and as often as he might berate him for laziness, it sends a shiver up Ky's spine to think that there's anything that Sol would prioritise higher. The vampire's long gone by now, of course, with little hope of tracking him down again tonight if he doesn't want to be found, but even that's more of an excuse than a reason. There are vampires every night of their lives, but even Ky has come to accept that punishing himself for every vampire that escapes them is useless at best. There are vampires every night of their lives, but this is something new.
Sol stops just beyond the arch of the entryway, and Ky's just distracted enough that he almost walks into him before noticing. A hand raised to stop himself lands on Sol's side, miraculously finding a solid patch of fabric that hasn't been near-shredded, and even so it's embarrassing how much something as simple as proximity to Sol is affecting him now. Affecting Sol too, from the way he turns under the touch until they're facing. The hungry gleam in his eye Ky remembers from earlier has returned, if it ever left, promising things Ky hadn't imagined he had it in himself to want this badly.
“Your room or mine?” Sol murmurs in his ear.
The answer isn't really in any doubt - Ky's is by far the more comfortable, thanks to the privileges of rank. “It had better be mine, hadn't it?”
Sol gives a warm chuckle. “Meet you there.” And with hardly more than that, he's gone, leaving Ky in the hallway, feeling so addled he takes two steps in the wrong direction before remembering where his room is.
After everything that's happened this night, the familiarity of his quarters seems out of place, and the door closes heavily behind him. He's torn between wishing he'd asked Sol what he'd gone to do and feeling sure that would only have betrayed his ignorance. Automatically, he strips out of his coat and boots and wonders stupidly what he's meant to do next. Should he be getting undressed? Or is that something he should leave for Sol to take care of? He's not nearly so clueless about sex as Sol seems to think, given some of the jokes he's made in Ky's presence in the past, but ever since he started making his way up through the Order's ranks in his late teens, there's always been so many more important things to do than pursue romantic possibilities. There's never been the opportunity to put what he knows into practice.
There's never been anyone like Sol before either.
Some of those jokes of Sol's are starting to sound a bit different in retrospect. Particularly a couple of instances when he'd brushed aside the thought Sol might have been flirting with him.
Ky's in no state to be judging time objectively, but it's probably about ten minutes before there are footsteps in the hallway outside - and that's all the warning Ky gets before Sol's pushing the door open without so much as knocking. Whatever he went away to do included removing the remains of his shirt and wiping away the worst of the bloody mess that had been drying on his side, which Ky is quietly grateful for. He's carrying something, a small jar Ky doesn't immediately recognise, but that's a detail he hardly notices in passing. Sol's hair had come loose from its usual binds sometime earlier in the evening, and the picture he paints is feral and beautiful in a way Ky has never let himself appreciate like this before.
Sol prowls up to him and brings a hand to the side of his face. He rubs his thumb over Ky's chin, his expression suddenly serious. “No second thoughts?”
Ky looks down as far as Sol's hand will let him, leaving him studying Sol's collarbone. “I should have, shouldn't I? There's so much I don't understand about you. So many things I should be asking - what you are, how any of what you've told me is possible.” How much of his willingness to trust Sol after all of this has been motivated by lust. He raises a hand to run slowly up Sol's free arm, balancing the contact between them; the reassurance of smooth, warm muscle under his fingers is something he would probably need now even without the urge to get his hands on Sol again that's been burning him for what feels like half the night.
“But?” Sol prompts. It must have been obvious where Ky was going with this.
“But that can wait,” Ky says.
In the alleyway, when Ky had choked out the word, “Please,” it had been too dark to see quite how Sol's face had lit up around the grin (which to be honest had been doing strange things to Ky's stomach since the day they met) - if 'lit up' was a term that applied to the kind of far-spectrum radiance that had far more to do with heat than illumination. Any remaining doubts in Ky's mind burn and shrivel away under the glare; there's already been too much anticipation, and for once in his life, Ky pushes away every impulse to over-think things. Before Sol's even moved he's leaning forward, and Sol's mouth opens underneath his own.
It's different this time, without the blood-fuelled urgency that had overtaken him up against the wall outside and left him aching to crawl inside Sol's skin by any means available. All the sensations are muted now, parts of the experience that had all run together the first time laid out for him in resolution he'd hardly known existed before, so that every nuance becomes something new and surprising - it seems almost criminal he'd had no chance to appreciate it all the first time around. Sol tastes like the memory of everything they've done this night - sweat and blood and semen, fire and anger and despair; far from being unpleasant, there's no part of it that doesn't taste like the promise of more. The bite mark on his neck still throbs dully whenever he remembers it, the sense-memory of the experience still new enough to taste, but the need this time feels as though it's coming from somewhere deeper, less overwhelming but perhaps more genuine for it. The hunger in the way Sol's kissing him is unmistakable, but the way he's exploring Ky's mouth is almost leisurely, even if it's still leaving Ky feeling that little bit off balance, always one step behind catching up.
He's barely starting to feel like he's settled into the kiss before Sol's mouth is moving lower, lips exploring the soft skin under his chin and trailing deliberately down his neck with, hard, sucking kisses like Sol's laying claim to him, inch by inch. The moment Ky realises just where Sol's going the bite mark throbs anew, anticipation winding like a spring with the closer Sol gets. When Sol's tongue runs over the spot at last the sensation goes straight to his groin and Ky gasps aloud. Even expecting it, it's so much better than he'd been prepared for.
Sol doesn't linger there long, but he doesn't need to; it's more than enough to bring everything that started all this flooding deliciously back, heat spreading just far enough to leave him wanting more. When Sol's mouth leaves a moan of protest escapes before he even realises he's making it, and there's an answering noise from Sol that comes closer to a growl.
“Don't tempt me,” he says mildly. Sol has one hand in his hair, the other wrapped around the back of his neck, and the fingers on both tighten, though not painfully; for all his protests he's still practically nuzzling against that spot, and it's making Ky dizzy. “Can still taste it on your skin.”
Ky blinks over his shoulder. Of all the things he thought he'd known about sex, this particular complication had never entered into things. “...no, that wouldn't be wise, would it?”
Sol snorts against his neck. With Ky's experience, it's a little too easy to start calculating exactly how much blood a human can safely lose, and how often, and he doesn't feel - or sound - as convincing as he probably should.
“Maybe some other time?” Ky offers, a compromise of sorts.
Sol mutters something Ky doesn't quite catch about failing resolutions, but it doesn't sound a bit like disagreement. With what feels like real reluctance, he pulls his face away, moves to the other side of Ky's neck and sucks a kiss into the skin there instead, sudden and hard enough to bruise, and that's really not half bad either.
The thought they've got all night to explore this makes something tingle deep in his stomach, but by the time Sol starts on the buttons of his shirt, there are just one or two little details he's starting to feel the slightest bit impatient with.
“Haven't we,” Ky's voice comes out so husky the first two words are barely decipherable, “done enough standing up for one night?” Not least because he isn't sure he trusts his knees to hold him up through much more of this.
Sol finishes a long, and completely un-protested, lap of his tongue along Ky's newly accessible collarbone before replying. “Getting ahead of me?”
“I've been...” the scrape of teeth on the same place almost make him lose the rest of the sentence, “ahead of you since the alley outside.”
Sol chuckles and looks up to meet his eye. “True, that.” A nudge is all it takes to start Ky walking backwards towards the bed, Sol following him. Any flash of self-consciousness he feels about spreading himself back against the covers lasts only as long as it takes for Sol to join him, crawling over to cage Ky's body between his limbs. Ky's hands come to rest of their own accord on Sol's lower stomach, but it's impossible to keep them still for long. It's a source of constant amazement that a vampire could have skin this warm, this inviting.
“Looking forward to settling the score?” Sol asks, not doing anything to Ky yet beyond grinning at him (which is really enough), and leaning in low, voice descending another octave below even his usual husky growl. “Getting in under my guard and laying it into me where I'll feel it.” The last line is whispered right against his neck, “Can't be many people ever inspired Ky Kiske to aim below the belt.”
Trust Sol to take a metaphor of this as a fight all the way past its logical conclusion, to make words sound dirtier than anything they've actually done.
“You make it sound like you ought to be the one in my debt,” says Ky. It could only be arrogance to imagine he knows how to make Sol feel half as good as Sol had made him, but that certainly isn't going to discourage him from trying.
“Took you apart once tonight already. One opening and I'll be doing it all over again,” says Sol, with what sounds like considerable pride, pulling Ky's shirt free of his pants and running his hands over Ky's stomach.
“Am I supposed to have it in me to object?” he replies, feeling dizzy again. They've really got to get rid of the rest of these clothes - there's something even dirtier about how much they've done already with him still dressed.
Sol goes back to the buttons on his shirt, working his way up from the bottom this time. “If I'd known you were going to be this enthusiastic, don't know I could've kept my hands off you this long.”
“You've thought about this before?” It's really no surprise - he's suspected at least as much ever since his revelation about the flirting, but he hadn't expected Sol to admit it so easily.
Sol shrugs. “Maybe a little.”
It's such a blatant understatement Ky can't help letting out a breathless laugh, and Sol's grin widens, sharing the joke.
“Should I be congratulating you for waiting this long?” Ky suggests, bringing a hand to the side of Sol's face. “I feel rather more inclined towards the opposite.”
Sol's expression darkens, almost imperceptibly. “Promised myself I wouldn't move on you as long as you didn't know I wasn't human.”
Ky blinks at him. “You were planning to tell me some day then?”
“Who knows,” Sol mutters, focusing on the last couple of buttons, but the inflection sounds far more like 'no' than 'yes'. Something warm and comfortable that had been in the process of opening up in Ky's chest halts abruptly, but before he has any time to dwell on the feeling it dawns on him Sol's not just avoiding eye contact for the sake of it, he's staring at Ky's newly bared chest. A gold cross in solid, ornamental design stares back at him.
The spreading warmth constricts back down again all at once as Ky realises this isn't going anywhere further until he takes it off.
There are vampires powerful enough that they can look on the sign of the cross with the same illusion of ease they treat full summer sunlight, but that doesn't mean either ever lose the capacity to weaken them, even to the extent of causing pain. He can't ask Sol to endure something like that just for the sake of the principle, but not even the bite mark on his neck had served as so sharp a reminder of just what kind of creature he's invited into his bed.
But before Ky's gotten as far as formulating all that into a real response, Sol looks up again at last, catches his eye and quirks an eyebrow at whatever it is he's reading in Ky's face. Keeping eye contact until the very last moment so that he knows Ky's watching everything, Sol leans slowly down and presses a kiss to the lower bar of the crucifix, the edges of his lips brushing the skin of Ky's chest either side. Something burns deep in his eyes when he looks up again, but there's not the faintest trace of discomfort.
Ky is, once more, finding it incredibly difficult to breathe.
“My god,” he whispers, the heat in his chest before replaced by yet another of those sensations he doesn't have a name for, spreading out from where Sol's lips just touched him and not stopping. “What on earth are you?”
“Thought we were saving that for later?” says Sol, without malice. Ky shakes himself.
“That was mostly hypothetical,” he says quietly, and Sol seems to take pity on him a little.
“Shh, there'll be better times for it. Trust me.”
A light tug prompts Ky to lean up so Sol can push his shirt back over his shoulders. “Would I have let you do all this if I didn't?” he replies, keeping his voice light, even teasing.
Sol's eyes rake over Ky's newly bared chest, down and up again, hands following but coming to rest just above Ky's hips. “Think you know where this is going then?”
Ky hasn't known where anything was going from one moment to the next since Sol ran off on patrol earlier that night. “I have a feeling I ought to make you tell me,” he says aloud.
Sol gives him a hungry grin, and leans down low, “I want to fuck you,” he breathes in his ear.
Ky is left dealing with a vague feeling that the first proper thought to pass through his head after hearing a particularly graphic sex act proposed as a profanity probably should have been further from, 'oh please'.
“I could be talked into that,” he admits, voice suddenly hoarse, the end of the last word lost in a gasp as Sol's hands dip the final inches remaining to his pants, setting on the button and zip with practised efficiency, a process which involves just enough incidental pressure to tease. Trust Sol to take this approach to 'talking him into it' - words never have been Sol's first resort when it came to settling a matter like this.
Sol makes short order of Ky's pants before reaching down for something on the floor, which confuses Ky for the moment it takes for him to think to wonder what happened to the jar Sol had been holding when he'd come in. Retrieved from the floor, the container proves to be filled with a viscous fluid, into which Sol unceremoniously plunges the fingers of one hand. They come away slick with an oily substance, and when Sol strokes them slowly over Ky's cock, the result - glorious, frictionless pressure - is so very nice any passing indignation Ky might have wasted on the thought of just what Sol's getting on his privates is well and truly overruled.
The stroking only goes a couple of times up and down the his length - reassurance, maybe, certainly enough to quell any doubts that Sol knows exactly what he's doing - before the fingers are trailing lower, over his balls and further still into sensitive parts of Ky's anatomy that he's never been this aware of before. Sol may be taking his time, but he's not patient by nature and he doesn't linger any more than what Ky has the passing impression of being rote requirements for breaking in any nervous virgin. He doesn't bother asking permission again for anything Ky's already more than implied permission for either, but he does look up at that point, catching Ky's eye. Whether he's making sure he can tell if he's doing anything to make Ky uncomfortable, or if he just wants to see every last thing that crosses his face while he does this or some combination of the two Ky will never know, but the result is that when Sol's finger presses inside him everything else in the world is lost behind the look in Sol's eyes, pupils dilated until the red of his irises is little more than a sliver around the edge.
The sensation of Sol's finger pressing into him is more strange than uncomfortable - if it's any rival to the kind of strains he's used to from years hunting monsters through the cold and wet at all hours of the night, it's only because the stretch is somewhere so much more intimate than anything he's experienced before. Ky's breath is coming in short pants now; when he breaks eye contact at last (Sol's face strange and serious) it's to lean back, arching up into the contact in a way that seems to make it easier. By the time he looks up again there's a second finger moving in beside the first, stretching against muscles that really aren't used to this sort of intrusion, and yet Ky's almost too distracted by the sight of what Sol's doing with his other hand to notice, palming himself roughly through his pants while he watches. Ky's mouth goes dry; for all that they've done so far, up to now Sol's been just a little too good at keeping his own arousal under wraps for comfort - this is the first hint he's had yet of so much that seemed to be missing from the incident in the alley outside. At the same time the sight comes with the faintest niggling of betrayal - it should surely be against whatever rules apply here for either of them to be doing that to themselves, especially when Sol would only have to scoot up the bed into reach and Ky would be more than happy to take over for him. He never does get any further with that thought though, because the next second whatever patience Sol has had with the pace thus far has eroded to where he's now thrusting both fingers sharply inside, as far as they'll go, and as far as they'll go involves hitting something deep inside Ky that shorts out every thought he'd been having and a good deal more he'd hardly even begun to form. Ky gives a low moan, and he's shifting bodily back against Sol's fingers as soon as they move away. Sol's response is to pause, judging (undoubtedly smirking even if Ky can't see), then thrust his fingers back once more, making Ky gasp out his name.
The fingers still. “Ready for more?” Sol asks him, not waiting for Ky's answer before pulling his hand back and reaching for his pants, but Ky makes a vague noise that he hopes sounds like assent - full words are giving him more trouble than usual right now. Sol's already undoing his pants, completely mindless of the dark, sticky fingerprints he's leaving on them with both hands, finally drawing out his cock. He takes a moment to coat himself with more of the oil, and Ky knows he's staring, but he can't help it. Sol's decently larger than him - he'd have been a fool not to expect that - but it's still just a bit amazing to think he's the one responsible for making Sol that hard. For all Sol's faults, sexual deviancy has never been among them - as long as Ky's known him he's always been too stubborn and solitary to seek even the most casual kinds of intimacy with anyone, male or female, soldier or otherwise. To be the one exception is perhaps the greatest compliment Sol could have paid him.
Now they've come this far Sol wastes little time lining himself up. Ky lets his head tilt back against the pillows, eyes drifting closed, half-certain that if he watches Sol pushing into him this could all be over embarrassingly fast. The sensation alone is more than enough, the stretch of Sol sliding in much greater than before, slow enough that Sol has to be deliberately holding himself back. Ky reminds himself to relax, tries to slow his breathing down, but it's an effort, and the restraint Sol's holding himself to isn't actually helping much with that. By the time he's all the way inside Ky's desperate for Sol to move; he feels like he'll split in two if either of them so much as breathes too deeply, but there isn't a single sensation involved in all this he'd trade for all the world.
“Alright?” Sol asks, an impatient hitch in his voice that wasn't there before. “Can't tell much if you won't look at me.”
“Sorry,” Ky breathes, opening his eyes, “I'm fine. You can... any time you like.”
Once again holding eye contact, Sol draws himself out slowly, slick against enough oil to remove all but the last hint of friction, and thrusts himself back in again all at once, hitting that spot inside Ky again hard enough to make him arch his head back and whisper, “Oh yes.”
Sol does it again, and all the strangeness of all of this put together - the intrusion, the way Ky's legs have had to spread to give Sol access, the very idea that he's gone from nothing to this so fast, let alone with Sol - is nothing compared to how good this feels.
It doesn't take long for Sol to pick up the pace. Whatever restraint he's held thus far is soon confirmed to have been for Ky's benefit alone, and within the space of half a dozen thrusts he's pounding into Ky's body hard enough to almost fold him in half. Muscles Ky never knew he had are going to be aching from this tomorrow morning, but he isn't going to care. It's this he's been waiting for all night - all that energy he knew Sol had in reserve loosed at last; this is Sol hiding nothing, holding nothing back. Sensation builds long past where he can tell where one thrust ends and the next begins, - he's digging both hands into the bedclothes just to have anything solid to hold on to that won't mean doing himself damage with his own nails. It's a good thing he's come once already, he doesn't know how he could have lasted this long otherwise - the only thing holding him down is that he doesn't want it to end.
He's just about concluded that it couldn't possibly get any better when Sol leans that little bit further forward, thrusting all the way in, his mouth finding the bite-mark on Ky's neck one last time. Sol sucks down hard, and Ky comes so long and sudden the whole world whites out; he barely has the sense left to hear Sol growling out his name as he shudders deep inside him. Not even in a whole night of new and overwhelming experiences has there been anything to compare to this.
When Ky remembers how to move again (only a little startled at the discovery that the rest of the world is still there) he finds Sol licking semen off his stomach, not the least self-conscious when he glances up to see Ky's back with him again. The next stroke of his tongue is drawn out as long and slow as Sol can make it. It would probably be unbelievably arousing if Ky had anything left in him in any state to tell. The whole world seems to be happening on the far side of a thick, warm fog at the moment. He brings a hand to rest on the side of Sol's head as Sol finishes what he's doing and crawls back up towards him. Sol looks as pleased with himself as ever, but there's something new to it now - something more relaxed and open than Ky's not sure whether he's imagining or not.
“My god,” he murmurs, which doesn't do the experience any kind of justice, but is as much eloquence as he's capable of.
Sol grins. “Talking to me?”
Ky swats him playfully on the side of the head, which somehow turns into him pulling that head down again for another kiss, lips colliding with less than perfect grace; Ky is well beyond having the energy left to do this properly.
“Better get you in bed before you pass out on me,” says Sol after a bit. The statement puzzles Ky until he remembers that although they're nominally 'in bed', the covers are all underneath him at the moment. It's fortunate that Sol seems to know what to do about it, because he's not wrong that Ky's about two breaths from sleep.
Sol's curled up beside him before it even occurs to Ky that there was any possibility that he might not be staying there the night. He can't quite think what the alternative would have been though; there are a lot of cold corridors between here and Sol's quarters. It's natural Sol would be staying, isn't it?
He's asleep before he can carry the thought any further.
Summary: Gears or vampires, it's all just another day's work for the Holy Order. But they never do quite manage to screen some of their more unusual recruits as carefully as they ought to either.
Characters/Pairing: Sol/Ky
Chapter: 4 of 5
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4690
Previous Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
The walk back to headquarters passes in a blur. Ky hardly registers whatever excuse he makes to the gate wardens for Sol's tattered state - the truth, probably: Sol got into a fight with a powerful vampire, but his uniform suffered for it far worse than he himself did. The guards are scarcely going to try any harder to stop two such important persons when they're in no mood to be stopped. Sol all but barges straight past them, Ky trailing explanations in his wake.
It's on his shoulders that they lost that vampire before Sol had the chance to finish the job, but Sol hasn't mentioned it all the way back. Responsibility for that has been prickling like a burr stuck in the back of his mind ever since, but it's only now that he gets to framing the thought that Sol has given up the hunt for this - for him. As well as Ky knows Sol and as often as he might berate him for laziness, it sends a shiver up Ky's spine to think that there's anything that Sol would prioritise higher. The vampire's long gone by now, of course, with little hope of tracking him down again tonight if he doesn't want to be found, but even that's more of an excuse than a reason. There are vampires every night of their lives, but even Ky has come to accept that punishing himself for every vampire that escapes them is useless at best. There are vampires every night of their lives, but this is something new.
Sol stops just beyond the arch of the entryway, and Ky's just distracted enough that he almost walks into him before noticing. A hand raised to stop himself lands on Sol's side, miraculously finding a solid patch of fabric that hasn't been near-shredded, and even so it's embarrassing how much something as simple as proximity to Sol is affecting him now. Affecting Sol too, from the way he turns under the touch until they're facing. The hungry gleam in his eye Ky remembers from earlier has returned, if it ever left, promising things Ky hadn't imagined he had it in himself to want this badly.
“Your room or mine?” Sol murmurs in his ear.
The answer isn't really in any doubt - Ky's is by far the more comfortable, thanks to the privileges of rank. “It had better be mine, hadn't it?”
Sol gives a warm chuckle. “Meet you there.” And with hardly more than that, he's gone, leaving Ky in the hallway, feeling so addled he takes two steps in the wrong direction before remembering where his room is.
After everything that's happened this night, the familiarity of his quarters seems out of place, and the door closes heavily behind him. He's torn between wishing he'd asked Sol what he'd gone to do and feeling sure that would only have betrayed his ignorance. Automatically, he strips out of his coat and boots and wonders stupidly what he's meant to do next. Should he be getting undressed? Or is that something he should leave for Sol to take care of? He's not nearly so clueless about sex as Sol seems to think, given some of the jokes he's made in Ky's presence in the past, but ever since he started making his way up through the Order's ranks in his late teens, there's always been so many more important things to do than pursue romantic possibilities. There's never been the opportunity to put what he knows into practice.
There's never been anyone like Sol before either.
Some of those jokes of Sol's are starting to sound a bit different in retrospect. Particularly a couple of instances when he'd brushed aside the thought Sol might have been flirting with him.
Ky's in no state to be judging time objectively, but it's probably about ten minutes before there are footsteps in the hallway outside - and that's all the warning Ky gets before Sol's pushing the door open without so much as knocking. Whatever he went away to do included removing the remains of his shirt and wiping away the worst of the bloody mess that had been drying on his side, which Ky is quietly grateful for. He's carrying something, a small jar Ky doesn't immediately recognise, but that's a detail he hardly notices in passing. Sol's hair had come loose from its usual binds sometime earlier in the evening, and the picture he paints is feral and beautiful in a way Ky has never let himself appreciate like this before.
Sol prowls up to him and brings a hand to the side of his face. He rubs his thumb over Ky's chin, his expression suddenly serious. “No second thoughts?”
Ky looks down as far as Sol's hand will let him, leaving him studying Sol's collarbone. “I should have, shouldn't I? There's so much I don't understand about you. So many things I should be asking - what you are, how any of what you've told me is possible.” How much of his willingness to trust Sol after all of this has been motivated by lust. He raises a hand to run slowly up Sol's free arm, balancing the contact between them; the reassurance of smooth, warm muscle under his fingers is something he would probably need now even without the urge to get his hands on Sol again that's been burning him for what feels like half the night.
“But?” Sol prompts. It must have been obvious where Ky was going with this.
“But that can wait,” Ky says.
In the alleyway, when Ky had choked out the word, “Please,” it had been too dark to see quite how Sol's face had lit up around the grin (which to be honest had been doing strange things to Ky's stomach since the day they met) - if 'lit up' was a term that applied to the kind of far-spectrum radiance that had far more to do with heat than illumination. Any remaining doubts in Ky's mind burn and shrivel away under the glare; there's already been too much anticipation, and for once in his life, Ky pushes away every impulse to over-think things. Before Sol's even moved he's leaning forward, and Sol's mouth opens underneath his own.
It's different this time, without the blood-fuelled urgency that had overtaken him up against the wall outside and left him aching to crawl inside Sol's skin by any means available. All the sensations are muted now, parts of the experience that had all run together the first time laid out for him in resolution he'd hardly known existed before, so that every nuance becomes something new and surprising - it seems almost criminal he'd had no chance to appreciate it all the first time around. Sol tastes like the memory of everything they've done this night - sweat and blood and semen, fire and anger and despair; far from being unpleasant, there's no part of it that doesn't taste like the promise of more. The bite mark on his neck still throbs dully whenever he remembers it, the sense-memory of the experience still new enough to taste, but the need this time feels as though it's coming from somewhere deeper, less overwhelming but perhaps more genuine for it. The hunger in the way Sol's kissing him is unmistakable, but the way he's exploring Ky's mouth is almost leisurely, even if it's still leaving Ky feeling that little bit off balance, always one step behind catching up.
He's barely starting to feel like he's settled into the kiss before Sol's mouth is moving lower, lips exploring the soft skin under his chin and trailing deliberately down his neck with, hard, sucking kisses like Sol's laying claim to him, inch by inch. The moment Ky realises just where Sol's going the bite mark throbs anew, anticipation winding like a spring with the closer Sol gets. When Sol's tongue runs over the spot at last the sensation goes straight to his groin and Ky gasps aloud. Even expecting it, it's so much better than he'd been prepared for.
Sol doesn't linger there long, but he doesn't need to; it's more than enough to bring everything that started all this flooding deliciously back, heat spreading just far enough to leave him wanting more. When Sol's mouth leaves a moan of protest escapes before he even realises he's making it, and there's an answering noise from Sol that comes closer to a growl.
“Don't tempt me,” he says mildly. Sol has one hand in his hair, the other wrapped around the back of his neck, and the fingers on both tighten, though not painfully; for all his protests he's still practically nuzzling against that spot, and it's making Ky dizzy. “Can still taste it on your skin.”
Ky blinks over his shoulder. Of all the things he thought he'd known about sex, this particular complication had never entered into things. “...no, that wouldn't be wise, would it?”
Sol snorts against his neck. With Ky's experience, it's a little too easy to start calculating exactly how much blood a human can safely lose, and how often, and he doesn't feel - or sound - as convincing as he probably should.
“Maybe some other time?” Ky offers, a compromise of sorts.
Sol mutters something Ky doesn't quite catch about failing resolutions, but it doesn't sound a bit like disagreement. With what feels like real reluctance, he pulls his face away, moves to the other side of Ky's neck and sucks a kiss into the skin there instead, sudden and hard enough to bruise, and that's really not half bad either.
The thought they've got all night to explore this makes something tingle deep in his stomach, but by the time Sol starts on the buttons of his shirt, there are just one or two little details he's starting to feel the slightest bit impatient with.
“Haven't we,” Ky's voice comes out so husky the first two words are barely decipherable, “done enough standing up for one night?” Not least because he isn't sure he trusts his knees to hold him up through much more of this.
Sol finishes a long, and completely un-protested, lap of his tongue along Ky's newly accessible collarbone before replying. “Getting ahead of me?”
“I've been...” the scrape of teeth on the same place almost make him lose the rest of the sentence, “ahead of you since the alley outside.”
Sol chuckles and looks up to meet his eye. “True, that.” A nudge is all it takes to start Ky walking backwards towards the bed, Sol following him. Any flash of self-consciousness he feels about spreading himself back against the covers lasts only as long as it takes for Sol to join him, crawling over to cage Ky's body between his limbs. Ky's hands come to rest of their own accord on Sol's lower stomach, but it's impossible to keep them still for long. It's a source of constant amazement that a vampire could have skin this warm, this inviting.
“Looking forward to settling the score?” Sol asks, not doing anything to Ky yet beyond grinning at him (which is really enough), and leaning in low, voice descending another octave below even his usual husky growl. “Getting in under my guard and laying it into me where I'll feel it.” The last line is whispered right against his neck, “Can't be many people ever inspired Ky Kiske to aim below the belt.”
Trust Sol to take a metaphor of this as a fight all the way past its logical conclusion, to make words sound dirtier than anything they've actually done.
“You make it sound like you ought to be the one in my debt,” says Ky. It could only be arrogance to imagine he knows how to make Sol feel half as good as Sol had made him, but that certainly isn't going to discourage him from trying.
“Took you apart once tonight already. One opening and I'll be doing it all over again,” says Sol, with what sounds like considerable pride, pulling Ky's shirt free of his pants and running his hands over Ky's stomach.
“Am I supposed to have it in me to object?” he replies, feeling dizzy again. They've really got to get rid of the rest of these clothes - there's something even dirtier about how much they've done already with him still dressed.
Sol goes back to the buttons on his shirt, working his way up from the bottom this time. “If I'd known you were going to be this enthusiastic, don't know I could've kept my hands off you this long.”
“You've thought about this before?” It's really no surprise - he's suspected at least as much ever since his revelation about the flirting, but he hadn't expected Sol to admit it so easily.
Sol shrugs. “Maybe a little.”
It's such a blatant understatement Ky can't help letting out a breathless laugh, and Sol's grin widens, sharing the joke.
“Should I be congratulating you for waiting this long?” Ky suggests, bringing a hand to the side of Sol's face. “I feel rather more inclined towards the opposite.”
Sol's expression darkens, almost imperceptibly. “Promised myself I wouldn't move on you as long as you didn't know I wasn't human.”
Ky blinks at him. “You were planning to tell me some day then?”
“Who knows,” Sol mutters, focusing on the last couple of buttons, but the inflection sounds far more like 'no' than 'yes'. Something warm and comfortable that had been in the process of opening up in Ky's chest halts abruptly, but before he has any time to dwell on the feeling it dawns on him Sol's not just avoiding eye contact for the sake of it, he's staring at Ky's newly bared chest. A gold cross in solid, ornamental design stares back at him.
The spreading warmth constricts back down again all at once as Ky realises this isn't going anywhere further until he takes it off.
There are vampires powerful enough that they can look on the sign of the cross with the same illusion of ease they treat full summer sunlight, but that doesn't mean either ever lose the capacity to weaken them, even to the extent of causing pain. He can't ask Sol to endure something like that just for the sake of the principle, but not even the bite mark on his neck had served as so sharp a reminder of just what kind of creature he's invited into his bed.
But before Ky's gotten as far as formulating all that into a real response, Sol looks up again at last, catches his eye and quirks an eyebrow at whatever it is he's reading in Ky's face. Keeping eye contact until the very last moment so that he knows Ky's watching everything, Sol leans slowly down and presses a kiss to the lower bar of the crucifix, the edges of his lips brushing the skin of Ky's chest either side. Something burns deep in his eyes when he looks up again, but there's not the faintest trace of discomfort.
Ky is, once more, finding it incredibly difficult to breathe.
“My god,” he whispers, the heat in his chest before replaced by yet another of those sensations he doesn't have a name for, spreading out from where Sol's lips just touched him and not stopping. “What on earth are you?”
“Thought we were saving that for later?” says Sol, without malice. Ky shakes himself.
“That was mostly hypothetical,” he says quietly, and Sol seems to take pity on him a little.
“Shh, there'll be better times for it. Trust me.”
A light tug prompts Ky to lean up so Sol can push his shirt back over his shoulders. “Would I have let you do all this if I didn't?” he replies, keeping his voice light, even teasing.
Sol's eyes rake over Ky's newly bared chest, down and up again, hands following but coming to rest just above Ky's hips. “Think you know where this is going then?”
Ky hasn't known where anything was going from one moment to the next since Sol ran off on patrol earlier that night. “I have a feeling I ought to make you tell me,” he says aloud.
Sol gives him a hungry grin, and leans down low, “I want to fuck you,” he breathes in his ear.
Ky is left dealing with a vague feeling that the first proper thought to pass through his head after hearing a particularly graphic sex act proposed as a profanity probably should have been further from, 'oh please'.
“I could be talked into that,” he admits, voice suddenly hoarse, the end of the last word lost in a gasp as Sol's hands dip the final inches remaining to his pants, setting on the button and zip with practised efficiency, a process which involves just enough incidental pressure to tease. Trust Sol to take this approach to 'talking him into it' - words never have been Sol's first resort when it came to settling a matter like this.
Sol makes short order of Ky's pants before reaching down for something on the floor, which confuses Ky for the moment it takes for him to think to wonder what happened to the jar Sol had been holding when he'd come in. Retrieved from the floor, the container proves to be filled with a viscous fluid, into which Sol unceremoniously plunges the fingers of one hand. They come away slick with an oily substance, and when Sol strokes them slowly over Ky's cock, the result - glorious, frictionless pressure - is so very nice any passing indignation Ky might have wasted on the thought of just what Sol's getting on his privates is well and truly overruled.
The stroking only goes a couple of times up and down the his length - reassurance, maybe, certainly enough to quell any doubts that Sol knows exactly what he's doing - before the fingers are trailing lower, over his balls and further still into sensitive parts of Ky's anatomy that he's never been this aware of before. Sol may be taking his time, but he's not patient by nature and he doesn't linger any more than what Ky has the passing impression of being rote requirements for breaking in any nervous virgin. He doesn't bother asking permission again for anything Ky's already more than implied permission for either, but he does look up at that point, catching Ky's eye. Whether he's making sure he can tell if he's doing anything to make Ky uncomfortable, or if he just wants to see every last thing that crosses his face while he does this or some combination of the two Ky will never know, but the result is that when Sol's finger presses inside him everything else in the world is lost behind the look in Sol's eyes, pupils dilated until the red of his irises is little more than a sliver around the edge.
The sensation of Sol's finger pressing into him is more strange than uncomfortable - if it's any rival to the kind of strains he's used to from years hunting monsters through the cold and wet at all hours of the night, it's only because the stretch is somewhere so much more intimate than anything he's experienced before. Ky's breath is coming in short pants now; when he breaks eye contact at last (Sol's face strange and serious) it's to lean back, arching up into the contact in a way that seems to make it easier. By the time he looks up again there's a second finger moving in beside the first, stretching against muscles that really aren't used to this sort of intrusion, and yet Ky's almost too distracted by the sight of what Sol's doing with his other hand to notice, palming himself roughly through his pants while he watches. Ky's mouth goes dry; for all that they've done so far, up to now Sol's been just a little too good at keeping his own arousal under wraps for comfort - this is the first hint he's had yet of so much that seemed to be missing from the incident in the alley outside. At the same time the sight comes with the faintest niggling of betrayal - it should surely be against whatever rules apply here for either of them to be doing that to themselves, especially when Sol would only have to scoot up the bed into reach and Ky would be more than happy to take over for him. He never does get any further with that thought though, because the next second whatever patience Sol has had with the pace thus far has eroded to where he's now thrusting both fingers sharply inside, as far as they'll go, and as far as they'll go involves hitting something deep inside Ky that shorts out every thought he'd been having and a good deal more he'd hardly even begun to form. Ky gives a low moan, and he's shifting bodily back against Sol's fingers as soon as they move away. Sol's response is to pause, judging (undoubtedly smirking even if Ky can't see), then thrust his fingers back once more, making Ky gasp out his name.
The fingers still. “Ready for more?” Sol asks him, not waiting for Ky's answer before pulling his hand back and reaching for his pants, but Ky makes a vague noise that he hopes sounds like assent - full words are giving him more trouble than usual right now. Sol's already undoing his pants, completely mindless of the dark, sticky fingerprints he's leaving on them with both hands, finally drawing out his cock. He takes a moment to coat himself with more of the oil, and Ky knows he's staring, but he can't help it. Sol's decently larger than him - he'd have been a fool not to expect that - but it's still just a bit amazing to think he's the one responsible for making Sol that hard. For all Sol's faults, sexual deviancy has never been among them - as long as Ky's known him he's always been too stubborn and solitary to seek even the most casual kinds of intimacy with anyone, male or female, soldier or otherwise. To be the one exception is perhaps the greatest compliment Sol could have paid him.
Now they've come this far Sol wastes little time lining himself up. Ky lets his head tilt back against the pillows, eyes drifting closed, half-certain that if he watches Sol pushing into him this could all be over embarrassingly fast. The sensation alone is more than enough, the stretch of Sol sliding in much greater than before, slow enough that Sol has to be deliberately holding himself back. Ky reminds himself to relax, tries to slow his breathing down, but it's an effort, and the restraint Sol's holding himself to isn't actually helping much with that. By the time he's all the way inside Ky's desperate for Sol to move; he feels like he'll split in two if either of them so much as breathes too deeply, but there isn't a single sensation involved in all this he'd trade for all the world.
“Alright?” Sol asks, an impatient hitch in his voice that wasn't there before. “Can't tell much if you won't look at me.”
“Sorry,” Ky breathes, opening his eyes, “I'm fine. You can... any time you like.”
Once again holding eye contact, Sol draws himself out slowly, slick against enough oil to remove all but the last hint of friction, and thrusts himself back in again all at once, hitting that spot inside Ky again hard enough to make him arch his head back and whisper, “Oh yes.”
Sol does it again, and all the strangeness of all of this put together - the intrusion, the way Ky's legs have had to spread to give Sol access, the very idea that he's gone from nothing to this so fast, let alone with Sol - is nothing compared to how good this feels.
It doesn't take long for Sol to pick up the pace. Whatever restraint he's held thus far is soon confirmed to have been for Ky's benefit alone, and within the space of half a dozen thrusts he's pounding into Ky's body hard enough to almost fold him in half. Muscles Ky never knew he had are going to be aching from this tomorrow morning, but he isn't going to care. It's this he's been waiting for all night - all that energy he knew Sol had in reserve loosed at last; this is Sol hiding nothing, holding nothing back. Sensation builds long past where he can tell where one thrust ends and the next begins, - he's digging both hands into the bedclothes just to have anything solid to hold on to that won't mean doing himself damage with his own nails. It's a good thing he's come once already, he doesn't know how he could have lasted this long otherwise - the only thing holding him down is that he doesn't want it to end.
He's just about concluded that it couldn't possibly get any better when Sol leans that little bit further forward, thrusting all the way in, his mouth finding the bite-mark on Ky's neck one last time. Sol sucks down hard, and Ky comes so long and sudden the whole world whites out; he barely has the sense left to hear Sol growling out his name as he shudders deep inside him. Not even in a whole night of new and overwhelming experiences has there been anything to compare to this.
When Ky remembers how to move again (only a little startled at the discovery that the rest of the world is still there) he finds Sol licking semen off his stomach, not the least self-conscious when he glances up to see Ky's back with him again. The next stroke of his tongue is drawn out as long and slow as Sol can make it. It would probably be unbelievably arousing if Ky had anything left in him in any state to tell. The whole world seems to be happening on the far side of a thick, warm fog at the moment. He brings a hand to rest on the side of Sol's head as Sol finishes what he's doing and crawls back up towards him. Sol looks as pleased with himself as ever, but there's something new to it now - something more relaxed and open than Ky's not sure whether he's imagining or not.
“My god,” he murmurs, which doesn't do the experience any kind of justice, but is as much eloquence as he's capable of.
Sol grins. “Talking to me?”
Ky swats him playfully on the side of the head, which somehow turns into him pulling that head down again for another kiss, lips colliding with less than perfect grace; Ky is well beyond having the energy left to do this properly.
“Better get you in bed before you pass out on me,” says Sol after a bit. The statement puzzles Ky until he remembers that although they're nominally 'in bed', the covers are all underneath him at the moment. It's fortunate that Sol seems to know what to do about it, because he's not wrong that Ky's about two breaths from sleep.
Sol's curled up beside him before it even occurs to Ky that there was any possibility that he might not be staying there the night. He can't quite think what the alternative would have been though; there are a lot of cold corridors between here and Sol's quarters. It's natural Sol would be staying, isn't it?
He's asleep before he can carry the thought any further.