[ This is not how Jericho expected this night to go. He invited Larus here to talk. To brainstorm. But somehow this man manages to get under his skin like no one he's ever met, manages to push and push and push at his buttons and now? Right now he doesn't have the self control to stop it. Yesterday, maybe, he could have.
Today? Today instead of biting back a retort about how they're still humans, and they owe them at least the chance to walk away before it gets messy he lets Larus cup his face and he does whine into the kiss, pressing up and into him, biting at his lip and dragging it back with his teeth before soothing over it with a quick tongue.
One hand comes up from the vampire's thighs to settle at his back; firm, heavy, possessive as it holds him there ]
You [ he bites out between them as they (as he has to) come up for air, before diving back in and punctuating the words in the breaths he has to steal ] are insufferable.
[ For once, Larus refuses to allow himself to think. If he does, he's going to walk away from this and never look back, and in hindsight, he should. This is only going to complicate things later on. He has enough of that in his life, and he doesn't need to add a wolf to the mess that's become his day to day. Jericho wouldn't like it, and from what he's seen, he'd probably complain about it until it drove him mad.
But all he does is lean back and press his fingers to Jericho's mouth. ]
Stop talking.
[ He doesn't want to hear it. There's nothing left to say if all they're going to do is argue, and Larus lets his hands wander along Jericho's front, tugging at his shirt and pulling at the button of his pants. He should break the hold he has on him and get between his thighs, but Larus doesn't mind the possessive grip Jericho has on him, instead shifting his weight to get better leverage so he can touch him. ]
[ Overthinking things is Jericho's favorite past-time. He has thought about every part of his life ad nauseam, the things he could have done differently, the things he should do differently in the future. This is something he should spend more time thinking about--because logically there is no way this can be a good idea. Larus is a vampire. Larus is--impossible. Larus gets under his skin in ways he can't explain and pushes him toward parts of himself he has worked to keep carefully under lock and key for the past fifteen years. ]
Fine [ he agrees (at least for the moment, Jericho has never actually been great at not talking) and his hands slip up, finding the edge of Larus' shirt and tugging. He may not have vampire strength outside of his wolf form, but it's still more than human, and its definitely enough to snap the buttons free and leave his shirt hanging open.
Once that skin is exposed, he has no choice but to reach out and touch, nails dragging against pale muscle, his mouth dropping down to work over the line of Larus' neck, and up against his jaw ]
[ There's a sharp retort on the tip of his tongue about his shirt, but it's immediately all background to the heat of Jericho's mouth against his skin. He groans instead, low and quiet and arching into him with the kind of depravity that only comes from forbidding himself any sort of gentle contact. With one hand still between them, the other slides around Jericho's shoulder so he can hook his arm around his neck and hold him close.
As long as he doesn't use his teeth, there won't be a problem.
In fact, in a way, it's almost sort of... nice.
But he ignores that in favor of palming him through his pants, grinding down like just the thought of getting him in his hand is enough to get him hard. Larus isn't certain of that though, switching tactics after a moment and leaning some of his weight on his knees to slip his fingers in and grip Jericho by his cock. He's so warm, and that's really the only thought in his head as he nips at his mouth and slowly begins to jerk him off. ]
[ That groan goes straight to his head, chasing away whatever thoughts he might have had about coming to his senses and putting a stop to this. He wants to hear more of those noises. Wants to see Larus fall apart for him, just a little. His mouth starts to move lover, across the juncture of a shoulder and his neck when suddenly there's a hand around his cock, and he gasps, open mouthed and desperate against bare skin. ]
Fuck-- [ The word slips out unbidden, quiet surprise lanced through the single syllable.
It's been a while since he's done this. He'd almost forgotten how good--
--Larus' hand moves against him, cool touch against overheated skin and he arches into it, tries to make space between them for Larus to move even as he presses closer, whines with it, an unintentional sound somewhere in the back of his throat. What was the rule about not getting involved biblically with vampires? Whatever it is--he's getting rid of it, starting now.
His hands slip up, tracing absent patterns on the bare skin he can find, nails dragging down over the vampire's back, over his chest, and he does press forward to mouth at that previously visited junction, working over his neck and down from there to his collar bone, the hollow of his throat ]
[ His fingers are quick to warm the longer he touches him, an expert slide of his palm and the rub of his thumb along the tip to tease him. He doesn't think about it, silent as he strokes him and presses into all of the absent ways Jericho tortures him. His mouth, his hands —
It's dizzying to feel it, conscious of the way his own body reacts even before he can stop himself from doing it. He tips his head back to expose more of his throat, an offering that Jericho probably has no idea of the meaning behind it. This isn't something he normally does, especially not with a wolf, but the temptation had driven him close to insanity the longer they'd argued, boxed in together in such a small space where he could hear every nuance of his heartbeat as the heat between them rose.
Squeezing a little harder, his free hand cups the side of Jericho's face and holds him there so he can kiss him again. ]
I can keep using my hand, [ he mutters into the kiss, letting a fang slip dangerously close to nicking him, ] Or I can use my mouth. You decide. Now.
[ there isn't a current alternative to this exchange. ]
[ Each reaction he can draw out of the usually stoic vampire feels like some kind of victory. Each little hitch of his body under Jericho's hands, every noise or shift is captured, catalogued and committed to memory. Maybe he's not the only one who is being driven crazy here.
He leans into the kiss, deepening it, teeth and tongues and the warm wet of Larus' mouth. Dios, how can he be such a dichotomy? So alive at the same time he's not, so warm at the same time all of him is cold--it's the kind of thing someone could get addicted to chasing, to trying to tease apart. Not Jericho, obviously, he can't stand the man, but someone.
There's a moment at the end of the question where he just blinks, somewhat owlishly behind his glasses, as his brain tries to process the implications of what's been offered.
Did he mention it's been a while since he did this?
Fuck.
Jericho can feel the sharp edge of that fang, the hint of danger there, the firm acknowledgement that this isn't a human, that maybe, maybe he doesn't have to be quite so careful (what would it be like, his brain wonders absently, to be bitten by a vampire? They're hardier than humans, werewolves, can take more, give more--) but Larus is still waiting for an answer and he hopes it hasn't been more than a second or two before he nods, realizes that isn't actually an answer, and then rumbles out: ]
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Today? Today instead of biting back a retort about how they're still humans, and they owe them at least the chance to walk away before it gets messy he lets Larus cup his face and he does whine into the kiss, pressing up and into him, biting at his lip and dragging it back with his teeth before soothing over it with a quick tongue.
One hand comes up from the vampire's thighs to settle at his back; firm, heavy, possessive as it holds him there ]
You [ he bites out between them as they (as he has to) come up for air, before diving back in and punctuating the words in the breaths he has to steal ] are insufferable.
no subject
But all he does is lean back and press his fingers to Jericho's mouth. ]
Stop talking.
[ He doesn't want to hear it. There's nothing left to say if all they're going to do is argue, and Larus lets his hands wander along Jericho's front, tugging at his shirt and pulling at the button of his pants. He should break the hold he has on him and get between his thighs, but Larus doesn't mind the possessive grip Jericho has on him, instead shifting his weight to get better leverage so he can touch him. ]
no subject
Fine [ he agrees (at least for the moment, Jericho has never actually been great at not talking) and his hands slip up, finding the edge of Larus' shirt and tugging. He may not have vampire strength outside of his wolf form, but it's still more than human, and its definitely enough to snap the buttons free and leave his shirt hanging open.
Once that skin is exposed, he has no choice but to reach out and touch, nails dragging against pale muscle, his mouth dropping down to work over the line of Larus' neck, and up against his jaw ]
no subject
As long as he doesn't use his teeth, there won't be a problem.
In fact, in a way, it's almost sort of... nice.
But he ignores that in favor of palming him through his pants, grinding down like just the thought of getting him in his hand is enough to get him hard. Larus isn't certain of that though, switching tactics after a moment and leaning some of his weight on his knees to slip his fingers in and grip Jericho by his cock. He's so warm, and that's really the only thought in his head as he nips at his mouth and slowly begins to jerk him off. ]
no subject
Fuck-- [ The word slips out unbidden, quiet surprise lanced through the single syllable.
It's been a while since he's done this. He'd almost forgotten how good--
--Larus' hand moves against him, cool touch against overheated skin and he arches into it, tries to make space between them for Larus to move even as he presses closer, whines with it, an unintentional sound somewhere in the back of his throat. What was the rule about not getting involved biblically with vampires? Whatever it is--he's getting rid of it, starting now.
His hands slip up, tracing absent patterns on the bare skin he can find, nails dragging down over the vampire's back, over his chest, and he does press forward to mouth at that previously visited junction, working over his neck and down from there to his collar bone, the hollow of his throat ]
no subject
It's dizzying to feel it, conscious of the way his own body reacts even before he can stop himself from doing it. He tips his head back to expose more of his throat, an offering that Jericho probably has no idea of the meaning behind it. This isn't something he normally does, especially not with a wolf, but the temptation had driven him close to insanity the longer they'd argued, boxed in together in such a small space where he could hear every nuance of his heartbeat as the heat between them rose.
Squeezing a little harder, his free hand cups the side of Jericho's face and holds him there so he can kiss him again. ]
I can keep using my hand, [ he mutters into the kiss, letting a fang slip dangerously close to nicking him, ] Or I can use my mouth. You decide. Now.
[ there isn't a current alternative to this exchange. ]
no subject
He leans into the kiss, deepening it, teeth and tongues and the warm wet of Larus' mouth. Dios, how can he be such a dichotomy? So alive at the same time he's not, so warm at the same time all of him is cold--it's the kind of thing someone could get addicted to chasing, to trying to tease apart. Not Jericho, obviously, he can't stand the man, but someone.
There's a moment at the end of the question where he just blinks, somewhat owlishly behind his glasses, as his brain tries to process the implications of what's been offered.
Did he mention it's been a while since he did this?
Fuck.
Jericho can feel the sharp edge of that fang, the hint of danger there, the firm acknowledgement that this isn't a human, that maybe, maybe he doesn't have to be quite so careful (what would it be like, his brain wonders absently, to be bitten by a vampire? They're hardier than humans, werewolves, can take more, give more--) but Larus is still waiting for an answer and he hopes it hasn't been more than a second or two before he nods, realizes that isn't actually an answer, and then rumbles out: ]
Your mouth.