[ action ]kingofrooksNovember 2 2011, 13:06:40 UTC
[ The moment he gets the voicemail, Matches is already moving. He's dressed as he usually is, even though it's a weekday and he doesn't bother with that Matches Malone. But Bruce Wayne has no work, and his schedule is all messed up right now as it is.
He slips through the door with a fleeting smirk, the employees knowing better than to stop him. And he's leaning against the basement door, backlit by the lights from the club, when he finally speaks to Eric. ]
I leave for a few weeks and ya start the fun withou' me?
[ action ]vampingitupNovember 2 2011, 15:53:01 UTC
[ He appreciates it when Matches ceases his play accent, soaking in the words. They were not even spoken with Batman's gravity--and for a man who is entirely free with his body, everything else hardly matters. They both know that his identity, who and what he really is, is locked right inside so that even Eric cannot touch it.
It's exciting, and even just being allowed to touch carries that same weight. Rare humans have ever made him feel this way. Princesses and queens, he has drunk from, after all. Sookie, Pam, Godric, and now this man. A few others scattered back through centuries, out of hundreds of thousands. ]
Some might say that you are bargaining with the devil. Accepting the bad along with the good. What you want--what you need to stop the man who killed you.
You may have it, but you must guarantee your victory. I felt you die.
[ action ]kingofrooksNovember 2 2011, 16:00:51 UTC
[ There's something incredibly magnetic about Eric himself. A man who lived for a thousand years and have not lost his zeal of life; who lived as if he might still die and without the cynicism and exhaustion that is cliche amongst those of his kind. Live fast and leave a beautiful corpse, and never really die at all.
His lips quirk upwards, and he wonders faintly what is it that draws Eric to him. But that is a question that he will look into another day. Just like he would look into the drugs another day. ]
[ action ]vampingitupNovember 2 2011, 19:27:04 UTC
I don't suppose you do.
[ He draws just a little closer, closing his eyes, leaning in to inhale the scent of Bruce from his throat. ]
I can smell the Core on you.
[ It wasn't an unpleasant smell, otherwise he might have been repulsed, but Eric was not here to drink--there would be young women falling over themselves to have a few minutes in his lap later. No. He was here to lend his power to Bruce. ]
You will be a champion for others tonight, for myself, and for your own pride. You need my strength--it is yours to take, if you can reach it.
[ action ]kingofrooksNovember 3 2011, 03:53:41 UTC
You're giving me a challenge.
[ A droll tone as he tips his head up, fixing Eric with a strong stare, his own lips curving up so very slightly. There's always something that is incredibly dangerous about playing with this man- but Bruce takes it anyway. Leans forward, almost nuzzles against Eric's neck, letting his blunt teeth graze against the skin.
But he doesn't have much time to play. Bruce grazes his teeth against the skin again before pulling back, faster than most eyes can see, and slams his lips against Eric's. It's less of a kiss than a ravaging taking, his teeth slamming down on the vulnerable lips, cutting them until they bleed.
[ action ]vampingitupNovember 3 2011, 04:04:36 UTC
[ It's only not a kiss until Eric takes control, and then he's spinning them both around, pushing Bruce up against the wall and devouring his mouth in turn, never drawing blood, but gashing his own tongue and letting that, too, fill the other man's mouth.
His nails, like claws, dig into Bruce's shoulders, and his tongue chases the back of his white teeth, leaving no spot untainted by blood.
After all, Matches' last warning had been that Eric would dream of him, too. And he had. Yes, he had. And it had made his death all the more painful.
The kiss was revenge for that pain, lust and hunger, and Bruce knew it. ]
[ action ]kingofrooksNovember 3 2011, 04:16:38 UTC
[ The air is knocked out of his lungs again, and Bruce sucks in a breath even as he swallows the blood down. It should taste disgusting; should taste like metal and iron and blood- but instead it was honey-rotten-sweet again, heavy on his tongue. Bruce chases it, his tongue darting into Eric's mouth, licking against each part of it even as his wounds from Eric's nails start to heal.
The little bruises. The tiny cuts.
(He'd dreamt of this. He'll never admit it, but he had. Dreamt of Eric Northman sliding into one of his safehouses, pinning him to the wall, removing his clothes with a single finger from his throat downwards. Dreams that he will never speak of, but which Eric knows anyway.
And he knows now, with this kiss, that Eric had in turn dreamt of him. It makes him smirk, teeth white and breath fast and shallow, as he pulls away from him.) ]
[ action ]vampingitupNovember 3 2011, 13:03:35 UTC
Am I that transparent?
[ He leans forward enough to flick his tongue across Bruce's mouth, then he moves down, drags his tongue across the slender column of Bruce's throat. Any man, even well muscled, powerful men like this, they all shared the same weak point. The neck was fragile. It was difficult to protect, and easy to break. If evolution had had any sense, it would have put the brain somewhere a little safer, wouldn't have put such important arteries with such pulmonary power behind them so close to exposure.
Eric did not taste - he knew that Bruce would need his strength - but he knew that this was a favour repaid, too. Eric had had him test the drugs. Anything from hereon out would be new arrangements between them. There was no knowing the price that they would pay for each other's favours.
It was exciting. ]
You are welcome to return when your battle is done, Malone.
[ action ]kingofrooksNovember 3 2011, 13:15:15 UTC
[ And for that- for that, he tipped his head back. Didn't release his control over his pulse rate, however, making sure that it is beating slow and steady and low, a regular thrum against Eric's teeth and tongue.
Then, he steps away. Breathing slowed. Looking completely unaffected- without even the swollen lips, because the thousand-year-old blood in his veins takes care of that. ]
[ action ]vampingitupNovember 3 2011, 13:25:50 UTC
Mm...
[ He turned on the spot, sliding his hands back into his pockets, his sharp eyes raking down Bruce's body as though seeing it again for the first time. He'd seen more before, but then considering his proposal, he certainly expected to be seeing more of it.
He had no idea that Bruce had misinterpreted it.
Viking battles always ended up the same way, after all. The victors got to fuck anyone that was still left standing; in most but not all cases literally. It was a good way of working off steam.]
[ action ]kingofrooksNovember 3 2011, 13:54:06 UTC
[ There's an odd feeling here- like Eric is undressing him with his eyes, and Bruce isn't entirely protesting. It's pushed to the very back of his mind, but he hasn't forgotten the dreams. The want. The lust. ]
Don't be too eager. [ A murmur. Perhaps a tease. Bruce heads for the stairs again. Lifts a hand. Switches Matches Malone back on, slouching and shoving his hands into his pockets. Smirking. Drawing a match out of his pocket and shoving it between his teeth. ]
[ action ]vampingitupNovember 3 2011, 14:49:55 UTC
[ Eric is up on him in a moment, looming close, leaning Bruce back over the banister and leaning down to bite the match in half. He spits out the excess, then steps past Matches, onto the stairs above him. ]
Reply
I'm downstairs; come straight through.
Reply
He slips through the door with a fleeting smirk, the employees knowing better than to stop him. And he's leaning against the basement door, backlit by the lights from the club, when he finally speaks to Eric. ]
I leave for a few weeks and ya start the fun withou' me?
[ He's speaking of the drugs. ]
Reply
[ Exiting the lock up at the back of the room, a steel door with several different security measures in place, one of which is a temperature sensor. ]
I felt your return a week ago, and when the weekend came around you didn't show, so I simply imagined you had bigger fish to fry than me.
[ Pause. ]
Good employees are difficult to find, otherwise I wouldn't take kindly to being the subject of your whimsy.
Reply
[ He walks down the stairs with a muted swagger. Stops at the bottom of the stairs. When he speaks again, he killed the accent. ]
I have a few matters to deal with. [ And he lifts a hand, makes a screwing motion at the side of his temples. ] It's not finished yet.
[ Another step forward. Yet another. Until he's standing very close to Eric- close enough to feel his chill. ]
Consider this a preliminary visit.
Reply
It's exciting, and even just being allowed to touch carries that same weight. Rare humans have ever made him feel this way. Princesses and queens, he has drunk from, after all. Sookie, Pam, Godric, and now this man. A few others scattered back through centuries, out of hundreds of thousands. ]
Some might say that you are bargaining with the devil. Accepting the bad along with the good. What you want--what you need to stop the man who killed you.
You may have it, but you must guarantee your victory. I felt you die.
Reply
His lips quirk upwards, and he wonders faintly what is it that draws Eric to him. But that is a question that he will look into another day. Just like he would look into the drugs another day. ]
I don't lose twice.
Reply
[ He draws just a little closer, closing his eyes, leaning in to inhale the scent of Bruce from his throat. ]
I can smell the Core on you.
[ It wasn't an unpleasant smell, otherwise he might have been repulsed, but Eric was not here to drink--there would be young women falling over themselves to have a few minutes in his lap later. No. He was here to lend his power to Bruce. ]
You will be a champion for others tonight, for myself, and for your own pride. You need my strength--it is yours to take, if you can reach it.
Reply
[ A droll tone as he tips his head up, fixing Eric with a strong stare, his own lips curving up so very slightly. There's always something that is incredibly dangerous about playing with this man- but Bruce takes it anyway. Leans forward, almost nuzzles against Eric's neck, letting his blunt teeth graze against the skin.
But he doesn't have much time to play. Bruce grazes his teeth against the skin again before pulling back, faster than most eyes can see, and slams his lips against Eric's. It's less of a kiss than a ravaging taking, his teeth slamming down on the vulnerable lips, cutting them until they bleed.
Much easier than the throat. ]
Reply
His nails, like claws, dig into Bruce's shoulders, and his tongue chases the back of his white teeth, leaving no spot untainted by blood.
After all, Matches' last warning had been that Eric would dream of him, too. And he had. Yes, he had. And it had made his death all the more painful.
The kiss was revenge for that pain, lust and hunger, and Bruce knew it. ]
Reply
The little bruises. The tiny cuts.
(He'd dreamt of this. He'll never admit it, but he had. Dreamt of Eric Northman sliding into one of his safehouses, pinning him to the wall, removing his clothes with a single finger from his throat downwards. Dreams that he will never speak of, but which Eric knows anyway.
And he knows now, with this kiss, that Eric had in turn dreamt of him. It makes him smirk, teeth white and breath fast and shallow, as he pulls away from him.) ]
So you missed me.
[ Bruce Wayne's flippancy. ]
Reply
[ He leans forward enough to flick his tongue across Bruce's mouth, then he moves down, drags his tongue across the slender column of Bruce's throat. Any man, even well muscled, powerful men like this, they all shared the same weak point. The neck was fragile. It was difficult to protect, and easy to break. If evolution had had any sense, it would have put the brain somewhere a little safer, wouldn't have put such important arteries with such pulmonary power behind them so close to exposure.
Eric did not taste - he knew that Bruce would need his strength - but he knew that this was a favour repaid, too. Eric had had him test the drugs. Anything from hereon out would be new arrangements between them. There was no knowing the price that they would pay for each other's favours.
It was exciting. ]
You are welcome to return when your battle is done, Malone.
Reply
Then, he steps away. Breathing slowed. Looking completely unaffected- without even the swollen lips, because the thousand-year-old blood in his veins takes care of that. ]
I will. [ A smirk. This game isn't over yet. ]
You can be sure of that.
Reply
[ He turned on the spot, sliding his hands back into his pockets, his sharp eyes raking down Bruce's body as though seeing it again for the first time. He'd seen more before, but then considering his proposal, he certainly expected to be seeing more of it.
He had no idea that Bruce had misinterpreted it.
Viking battles always ended up the same way, after all. The victors got to fuck anyone that was still left standing; in most but not all cases literally. It was a good way of working off steam.]
I certainly hope so. Don't keep me waiting.
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Don't be too eager. [ A murmur. Perhaps a tease. Bruce heads for the stairs again. Lifts a hand. Switches Matches Malone back on, slouching and shoving his hands into his pockets. Smirking. Drawing a match out of his pocket and shoving it between his teeth. ]
See ya this weekend, boss.
Reply
This weekend.
[ He's gone; he has guests to attend to. ]
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