[ Larus is aware that there are labels, and then, sometimes, it doesn't matter. He isn't sure if this is one of those times, but he doesn't have the capacity to consider it beyond this moment, easing into the closeness of Carver's embrace and still ignoring the scent of blood radiating from him. It's not his hunger he has a problem with. It's not even the fact that Carver is so insistent on it either.
It's Carver he's worried about. ]
I didn't do much. [ He rests a hand against the other man's chest. ] I can't take that from you.
[ Their foreheads touch, and for once, Larus feels his resolve slipping. It's easy to get caught up in this, tilting his head just enough that their mouths brush. He could press it, distract him the way he had before, but he doesn't think he has the strength to really fight it for long.
There's a quiet exhale. ]
Just a little. [ And then, they wouldn't have to talk about it anymore. ]
[ This ought to be absurd, laughable: he’s talking out the logistics of giving blood to a vampire, a vampire he keeps colliding with. How many times have they fought now? Or, more accurately, how many times has Carver tried to fight Larus?
Too many. And yet.
Carver nuzzles against Larus, and kisses him back. Slow, and careful. There’s an intimacy to this thing, isn’t there? ]
[ They're beyond fighting now, he thinks. Or should be unless the city has any say in it, and even if they disagree, there's always some sort of give between them that brings them back to this. The intimacy, the sweetness of having someone they can trust. And maybe he just wants something other than his blood, keeping that closeness even as Carver says something about running a line.
They've done all of this before. They've shared these things with each other. ]
I know.
[ But Larus doesn't give him a chance to move, kissing him harder and with a little more urgency than the last kiss. ]
[ This is the part where he should tell Larus to sit down — again — and then run the line. Tie a band around his arm and find a good vein. Easy work for a predictable end. This doesn’t need to be complicated, and it’d hardly be the first time Carver’s given blood to someone—not even the first time he’s given blood to Larus. But the kiss is intense, and —
Carver presses into it, resting a hand on the back of Larus’s neck and squeezing faintly. Just holding him there. ]
It’s okay.
[ He runs his fingers through Larus’s hair, rubbing at his head. Gentle. ]
[ He's calm. Things feel fine like this for now, alone with Carver in a place no one else can get to without Larus hearing it first. But those touches don't seem like enough, anchored there against Carver's warmth as he thinks about pulling away and leaving him. Or turning his head just enough to get his mouth on his throat, sink his teeth in and —
Larus doesn't move beyond the slightest nod.
And there's really no answer he can give Carver that would satisfy them both either. ]
We should find somewhere else when we're done here.
[ Carver just presses their foreheads together, closing his eyes as he nods. They’re beyond pretending this is just a coincidence, not with how often they collide. Not with how many times they’ve sought each other out.
This is happening now. That’s all there is to it. ]
[ There are words he could say that would end this back and forth, leave them less confused and label what it is they are, but Larus doesn't have the patience for it right now, sinking into the contact without a word for several lengthy seconds. And even when he decides to pull away, fingertips gently resting against the curve of Carver's cheek, it's still there on the tip of his tongue. ]
I trust you.
[ Like he might have forgotten that since the last time he's said it. ]
[ This part, at least, is simple. Carver watches Larus and nods just once before he shrugs his coat off and folds it before laying it down. He’s started carrying medical gear around, tucking it into his many pockets. And so he has what he needs, and matter-of-factly begins pulling out tubing and a needle. It’s not the first time he’s done this, not even the first time with Larus. ]
I did this for one of my sisters a long time ago. She was bleeding out, but we had the same blood type.
[ It comes out soft. He ties a band around his arm, slapping the vein to make it pop. ]
Both our corpsmen were dead by then. We didn’t know how to save her.
[ He presses the needle in, watching blood bloom, and motions for Larus to grab the tubing. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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It's Carver he's worried about. ]
I didn't do much. [ He rests a hand against the other man's chest. ] I can't take that from you.
[ But he thinks, in the end, he might. ]
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[ This part, at least, is simple. Carver leans in and presses their foreheads together, breathing out. Things happen, but this is a choice. ]
You can.
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There's a quiet exhale. ]
Just a little. [ And then, they wouldn't have to talk about it anymore. ]
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I can run you a line. Or open up a cut on my arm. Yeah?
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You can't control it if you cut yourself open. I don't need much.
[ It's the only way Larus can convince himself that this is fine, and after a moment, he kisses Carver again because he wants to. ]
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Too many. And yet.
Carver nuzzles against Larus, and kisses him back. Slow, and careful. There’s an intimacy to this thing, isn’t there? ]
Then I’ll run a line. I know how to do it.
[ He’s done it for Larus before. ]
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They've done all of this before. They've shared these things with each other. ]
I know.
[ But Larus doesn't give him a chance to move, kissing him harder and with a little more urgency than the last kiss. ]
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Carver presses into it, resting a hand on the back of Larus’s neck and squeezing faintly. Just holding him there. ]
It’s okay.
[ He runs his fingers through Larus’s hair, rubbing at his head. Gentle. ]
Yeah?
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Larus doesn't move beyond the slightest nod.
And there's really no answer he can give Carver that would satisfy them both either. ]
We should find somewhere else when we're done here.
[ Somewhere that can actually be theirs. ]
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This is happening now. That’s all there is to it. ]
We can. We will.
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I trust you.
[ Like he might have forgotten that since the last time he's said it. ]
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Good. You know I do, too.
[ Something settles in him at that. ]
C’mon. Sit.
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There's something he should do about this, and yet, all he does is quietly wait. ]
Not much, [ he reminds him eventually, not wanting to test his limits. ]
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I did this for one of my sisters a long time ago. She was bleeding out, but we had the same blood type.
[ It comes out soft. He ties a band around his arm, slapping the vein to make it pop. ]
Both our corpsmen were dead by then. We didn’t know how to save her.
[ He presses the needle in, watching blood bloom, and motions for Larus to grab the tubing. ]
C’mon. Let me.