[Dorian's a difficult man to wake under all circumstances, even the ones where he's being accosted by a homicidal Father Christmas in his own bed, but there's no way something as conspicuous as a whole man wrapping around him isn't going to do the job. He stirs at the feeling of hands in his hair, and then utters a sleep-drunk murmur at the pressing of soft lips against his cheek.
He's confused, and pressed down beneath the blankets. What he's able to do in this position is blearily blink his eyes open. Consciousness is coming back at a confusing, creaking pace, but even before he opens his eyes he can place the hands on him and the soft hair touching his face. Larus.]
Larus?
[This is nice, his sleep-heavy body knows that before he can really wrap his mind around it, but it's not like Larus.]
[ He feels him slowly slipping awake, naturally, and it's exactly what he wants. ]
Shh. [ There's a soft kiss pressed against his mouth. ] I just wanted to be close to you.
[ It might have been something he normally would have admitted after hours of countless (and quiet) theatrics, but the words fall free easily, shifting only slightly to grab the edge of the blanket in an attempt to pull it down. He's in the way, of course, and that seems to confuse him somehow, sitting up so he's straddling Dorian and looking down at him. Larus pushes his fingers through his hair like it'll stop it from sliding back into place when he leans over him.
Dorian's exceedingly warm from having been asleep, soaking it up despite the fact he already feels a bit overheated. Probably the blood, though he doesn't stop to consider that when he's overtaken by the urge to kiss him again. This time, he starts with the bridge of his nose, lips soft as they travel up between his eyes and then along the ridge of his brow. ]
You can go back to sleep. [ Don't mind him. He'll just stay right there. ]
[Those heavy movements. Larus shushing him. Rather than concerned, Dorian's interested, entertained in a slowly dawning sort of way, consciousness coming back to him with much less reluctance, because--]
Hardly. [He chuckles, a light and bright sound. Dorian helps in the removing of the blankets from his body, and then settles back in, a smile tugging at his lips as Larus kisses his way up his face. The choice only confirms the amusing, surprising thought tugging irresistibly at him.] Are you drunk?
[His hands fall to rest on the other man's sides, drawing him back just enough to look into Larus' face to assess him as best he can through the darkness. It's difficult. The way he's moving and what he's saying are a much better indicator.
If it's true, he's not going to judge for even a moment-- but it will be unexpected.]
[ Larus thinks about that for a moment, pausing in his exploration of warm skin. ]
Blood, [ he says in a whisper, gently knocking his forehead against Dorian's as he hums a little to himself. ] I'm full.
[ Which makes him stronger, more alive. If there was light in the room, his skin might even have an almost flushed tone to it—the aftermath of consuming too much blood too quickly. His body will process it as it always does, but for now, it's affecting him on a completely different level. He feels light and comfortable, in need of affection until he's satisfied himself.
He kisses him again, fingers tracing over the curves of Dorian's shoulders and swirling towards his chest. His pulse is so loud right now. It almost echoes through him. ]
So, has Larus finally decided to take what the city's been offering freely? It seems unlikely to him, but the response here isn't one of doom, gloom and regret, the way Larus usually seems to feel after taking blood. He seems light to Dorian-- relaxed. More questions hang in the air between them, but the kissing and hands on his chest over his sleep clothes are bringing their own level of distraction. This man's wanting consistently is.
For now, and for various reasons, he's going to lean on the idea that this could be the start of a new trend. Larus feeding himself properly, and then, perhaps, coming back to him this relaxed and settled. If he can accept it, Dorian thinks it would be good for him in more ways than one.]
Then come here.
[He shifts gears mentally, drawing his legs the rest of the way out from under the bedsheets. Smiling, he reaches out to curl a hand around the other man's neck to draw Larus back down to him. Dorian presses their lips together, following up on every kiss the vampire has given him so far, and indulging in the feeling in the suddenly sweet, and sultry darkness of their room.] And help yourself.
[ Later, he might not be too happy about the things that spiraled from his weakness of having just the smallest taste. As always, he'd caved a little to his hunger, and now, he's here on top of Dorian and practically begging him for more than the occasional cuddle he'll crawl into bed to take.
This is different. Every sense that he has seems heightened further, breathing in the scent of him as he turns his face and presses it into the softness of his hair. Larus pauses there for a moment, hovering until the urge to kiss him elsewhere overtakes him, and then, he descends upon his cheek, his jaw, his chin. He maps out every inch of him like he's never touched or tasted any part of him before, excited by the possibility of stripping him slowly out of his clothes and finding places that Dorian might enjoy more attention on than others.
His fingers slip under his shirt, a smile present as he nudges their noses together. ]
To anything I want? [ He poses the question softly, fingers tracing over the shape of his ribs and upwards in the direction of his chest. ]
[This kind of lavishing of attention is something Dorian's used to, and that he enjoys. He stretches out when Larus starts nosing at him, pressing lips against different parts of his face. He brings out a hand to smooth down the length of the other man's back, looking for the hem of his tee shirt to get the offending fabric out of the way. Basking in the physical attention that's less usual from someone typically ponderous, sometimes in need of a nudging from him, save for those times when they've indulged in some mild cuddling. It's better when it's all coming from someone who actually means something to him, and oddly endearing in the way Larus is exploring him like all of this is new between them all over again.
He draws a breath when hands pass over a particular sensitive spot on his chest, the sensation combining with the lingering heaviness of sleep at the corners of his mind. Yes, he could do with more of that.
But rather than say yes to the question posed, Dorian instead offers:]
Ask me and we'll see, darling. [It's unprompted to drop an endearment on him, not the kind of thing Larus would usually get from him in a more sober moment, but it feels fitting in this moment where the vampire's being this sweet and soft.]
[ He might have disagreed strongly with such a name if he hadn't been so drunk on the blood washing through him. It makes it so much easier to be susceptible to the idea that this is good, that he doesn't have to overthink every little detail between them. He's not conscious of the contract that they have together, how they're intertwined because of this place and the necessity of it. They can just be them—Larus and Dorian, two people with a fondness for one another.
And Larus is fond of him in his own way, protective behind the scenes because he knows Dorian doesn't consider certain things the way Larus does. It seems a good give and take of their relationship so far since he doesn't mind it. Like the way he doesn't mind losing his shirt or repeating those touches that draw any sort of reaction out of him that he wants.
Speaking of — ]
I want you.
[ He doesn't specify or elaborate in what he means. It's just that; he wants him. And he punctuates it with a kiss, one that he sinks into and deepens, sucking slowly at his tongue and seeking more contact but content to give it when he draws away and slowly traces down the length of his throat with his lips. Gentle and soft, nuzzling into him with even more affection. ]
[This is good. He loves sex, likes indulging luxuriously in physical intimacy like this, enjoys all of it with the man wrapped up in his arms, and being surprised by this sudden surging of affection brings a sweetness he's interested in having more of. His fingers delve into Larus' hair lazily, carding through the soft strands, as the parting of their lips sends warm breath filling the air between them.
He also doesn't mind offering a nudge for some direction, even as his body still feels warm and heavy from sleep.]
Keep putting your mouth on me. [His hand leaves Larus' hair, falling to thumb at the peak of a smooth cheekbone. Appreciating.] Wherever it pleases you.
[He's enjoying this soft and desirous tasting of his skin, the soft nuzzling, gentle as it is. It's something different from Larus, and he wants to experience whatever comes of it.]
Had he actually needed that? They've been together long enough that it doesn't occur to Larus, but right now, his brain addled with too much blood in his system, there's no point overthinking when Dorian speaks. A soft hum leaves him, turning his face into the hand at the side of his face to catch his thumb with his teeth. A gentle nip, and he follows it with a softer kiss before turning his full attention back to the man beneath him.
He stays quiet, pushing up his shirt this time to expose more of his skin to him. Larus finds those places that had been sensitive with ease, using his mouth and his tongue to trace over them, and when he's satisfied with that, he moves on to taste other parts of him simply because he can. Over his ribs, along his chest, down the center of his abdomen. He nuzzles his navel, cheek brushing against his belly. For a moment, all he does is rest there, and then, he gives a gentle nip to his side as he tugs at his pants.
There's intent to explore him all the way to his feet and back up again, taking his time and clearly patient with stripping Dorian so that he's only wearing his shirt. He resumes his exploration after that, stroking his thumb along the length of his thigh as he subconsciously follows the steady beating of his heart in that particularly delicious artery, and without a word, he traces it with his mouth, purposely ignoring touching him between his legs.
He's taking his time. He wants both of them to enjoy this. ]
[It's a luxurious and sensual appreciating of his form, with attention paid to those places he's sensitive, but that ordinarily don't have time to be addressed when they've leapt into sex at other occasions. It's not his way to choose something like this, usually. This feels soft and tender, not the kind of thing that typically penetrates the surface of his consciousness or digs deep to touch him anywhere real. But it's different at the hands and lips of someone he's allowed, and wanted, to know him. That he's allowed through the door of knowing his secrets and the reality of his life.
It's vulnerable. Slow enough that there's space and time for his thoughts and emotions to seep in, space he prefers not to allow, still laden with the last dregs of sleep that they are. It's an opening up and a gentle perusing, rather than a throwing of all of himself into a distracting and riotously violent oblivion. It's satisfying, but part of him still itches at allowing himself a full indulgence in that satisfaction.
That manner of the lowering of his walls is how he's allowed himself to be cut deeply, and then been left carrying the burden in his endlessly recording memories when friends and lovers died, again and again.
There's no resistance, though, to allowing Larus to taste his skin above one of the most vulnerable arteries in his body. It's a particularly sensitive spot, one not often touched, and Dorian moans softly, the fingers in the other man's hair unconsciously curling that smallest bit tighter at the pleasure of it. He closes his eyes, partly to indulge, partly to put the smallest shred of distance between himself and what's happening.
This slow taking apart of him through his senses is something he can allow, however much of a riskier drawing of this man more deeply into his life and soul it might represent. It's been earned. It's what he decided upon, for better and worse.]
[ It feels good to go slow, to ease into something still new and as equally vulnerable as they are. He's not overthinking as his tongue slides over skin, licking at those equally tender places. He's not overthinking as Dorian's vocal about the spots he continues to revisit for that very reason, the sweetness of it pulling at something deeper inside of Larus that isn't awash with the haze of being fed and satisfied.
He's not suffered through the heartbreak of countless years, but he understands the loneliness that comes from it. Different circumstances that shape the way they are, and yet, somehow, they've still come to find one another like this. It's a fondness he can really no longer deny, slipping down to kiss the inside of Dorian's knee as he bends his leg to make more room for himself to follow the softness of his thigh to the top. He repeats it on the other side, fingers stroking down a calf and up again until he's satisfied with all the places he's discovered.
Then, just as carefully, without giving him the relief of his hand (or mouth) at his cock, Larus treks his way up to his face. The kiss he gives him is deep, sucking at his tongue and gently ending it with a soft bite to his lower lip. ]
I want to touch you like that again.
[ Murmured against his cheek, and if Dorian doesn't stop him, he's going to continue until they're both absolutely crazy from it and someone caves for something more. ]
You'll be teasing me if you do. [Because that was nice, heady, and only made more so by the depth of the kiss the other man presses to his lips. Dorian's tone is perfectly fond, though, even if there's no keeping of the secret that all of the tender affection has him growing stiff from the lack of attention to his cock.
This moment is an interlude: a short break from allowing more thoughts, and feelings about the connection between them to slip in. A breather.
He gathers Larus close to him, fingernails running up the length of the soft planes of skin of his back, and ending at his shoulders.]
[ Is that such a terrible thing? He wonders even as he arches into the pressure of Dorian's nails across his skin, eager for more but currently far more interested in pleasing him in a way he'd never relent to normally. Another slow kiss, and Larus hums into his mouth. ]
Since you asked, [ he breathes, taking another kiss before slipping down between his legs.
He uses his lips and his tongue to taste him, licking over the tip of his cock to take Dorian down without any hesitation. There's no hurry to it, but he doesn't tease him as he'd done before, pushing until he feels him in his throat. The need to breathe isn't there so it's not that difficult for him to keep him there, waiting just a second to adjust to the sensation of it before he moves. It's a steady rhythm, swallowing him deep each time, and his fingers dig gently into the flesh of Dorian's thighs, dragging to the sides to hold his hips.
If he chose, he could come like this, and there wouldn't be a single complaint about it from Larus, caressing a hipbone with his thumb as he lifts his head and then sinks down. As he keeps everything steady and unhurried, like there's nothing else but this and them and the way Dorian feels beneath him. ]
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no subject
He's confused, and pressed down beneath the blankets. What he's able to do in this position is blearily blink his eyes open. Consciousness is coming back at a confusing, creaking pace, but even before he opens his eyes he can place the hands on him and the soft hair touching his face. Larus.]
Larus?
[This is nice, his sleep-heavy body knows that before he can really wrap his mind around it, but it's not like Larus.]
What--
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Shh. [ There's a soft kiss pressed against his mouth. ] I just wanted to be close to you.
[ It might have been something he normally would have admitted after hours of countless (and quiet) theatrics, but the words fall free easily, shifting only slightly to grab the edge of the blanket in an attempt to pull it down. He's in the way, of course, and that seems to confuse him somehow, sitting up so he's straddling Dorian and looking down at him. Larus pushes his fingers through his hair like it'll stop it from sliding back into place when he leans over him.
Dorian's exceedingly warm from having been asleep, soaking it up despite the fact he already feels a bit overheated. Probably the blood, though he doesn't stop to consider that when he's overtaken by the urge to kiss him again. This time, he starts with the bridge of his nose, lips soft as they travel up between his eyes and then along the ridge of his brow. ]
You can go back to sleep. [ Don't mind him. He'll just stay right there. ]
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Hardly. [He chuckles, a light and bright sound. Dorian helps in the removing of the blankets from his body, and then settles back in, a smile tugging at his lips as Larus kisses his way up his face. The choice only confirms the amusing, surprising thought tugging irresistibly at him.] Are you drunk?
[His hands fall to rest on the other man's sides, drawing him back just enough to look into Larus' face to assess him as best he can through the darkness. It's difficult. The way he's moving and what he's saying are a much better indicator.
If it's true, he's not going to judge for even a moment-- but it will be unexpected.]
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Blood, [ he says in a whisper, gently knocking his forehead against Dorian's as he hums a little to himself. ] I'm full.
[ Which makes him stronger, more alive. If there was light in the room, his skin might even have an almost flushed tone to it—the aftermath of consuming too much blood too quickly. His body will process it as it always does, but for now, it's affecting him on a completely different level. He feels light and comfortable, in need of affection until he's satisfied himself.
He kisses him again, fingers tracing over the curves of Dorian's shoulders and swirling towards his chest. His pulse is so loud right now. It almost echoes through him. ]
I like touching you.
no subject
So, has Larus finally decided to take what the city's been offering freely? It seems unlikely to him, but the response here isn't one of doom, gloom and regret, the way Larus usually seems to feel after taking blood. He seems light to Dorian-- relaxed. More questions hang in the air between them, but the kissing and hands on his chest over his sleep clothes are bringing their own level of distraction. This man's wanting consistently is.
For now, and for various reasons, he's going to lean on the idea that this could be the start of a new trend. Larus feeding himself properly, and then, perhaps, coming back to him this relaxed and settled. If he can accept it, Dorian thinks it would be good for him in more ways than one.]
Then come here.
[He shifts gears mentally, drawing his legs the rest of the way out from under the bedsheets. Smiling, he reaches out to curl a hand around the other man's neck to draw Larus back down to him. Dorian presses their lips together, following up on every kiss the vampire has given him so far, and indulging in the feeling in the suddenly sweet, and sultry darkness of their room.] And help yourself.
no subject
This is different. Every sense that he has seems heightened further, breathing in the scent of him as he turns his face and presses it into the softness of his hair. Larus pauses there for a moment, hovering until the urge to kiss him elsewhere overtakes him, and then, he descends upon his cheek, his jaw, his chin. He maps out every inch of him like he's never touched or tasted any part of him before, excited by the possibility of stripping him slowly out of his clothes and finding places that Dorian might enjoy more attention on than others.
His fingers slip under his shirt, a smile present as he nudges their noses together. ]
To anything I want? [ He poses the question softly, fingers tracing over the shape of his ribs and upwards in the direction of his chest. ]
no subject
He draws a breath when hands pass over a particular sensitive spot on his chest, the sensation combining with the lingering heaviness of sleep at the corners of his mind. Yes, he could do with more of that.
But rather than say yes to the question posed, Dorian instead offers:]
Ask me and we'll see, darling. [It's unprompted to drop an endearment on him, not the kind of thing Larus would usually get from him in a more sober moment, but it feels fitting in this moment where the vampire's being this sweet and soft.]
no subject
And Larus is fond of him in his own way, protective behind the scenes because he knows Dorian doesn't consider certain things the way Larus does. It seems a good give and take of their relationship so far since he doesn't mind it. Like the way he doesn't mind losing his shirt or repeating those touches that draw any sort of reaction out of him that he wants.
Speaking of — ]
I want you.
[ He doesn't specify or elaborate in what he means. It's just that; he wants him. And he punctuates it with a kiss, one that he sinks into and deepens, sucking slowly at his tongue and seeking more contact but content to give it when he draws away and slowly traces down the length of his throat with his lips. Gentle and soft, nuzzling into him with even more affection. ]
no subject
He also doesn't mind offering a nudge for some direction, even as his body still feels warm and heavy from sleep.]
Keep putting your mouth on me. [His hand leaves Larus' hair, falling to thumb at the peak of a smooth cheekbone. Appreciating.] Wherever it pleases you.
[He's enjoying this soft and desirous tasting of his skin, the soft nuzzling, gentle as it is. It's something different from Larus, and he wants to experience whatever comes of it.]
no subject
Had he actually needed that? They've been together long enough that it doesn't occur to Larus, but right now, his brain addled with too much blood in his system, there's no point overthinking when Dorian speaks. A soft hum leaves him, turning his face into the hand at the side of his face to catch his thumb with his teeth. A gentle nip, and he follows it with a softer kiss before turning his full attention back to the man beneath him.
He stays quiet, pushing up his shirt this time to expose more of his skin to him. Larus finds those places that had been sensitive with ease, using his mouth and his tongue to trace over them, and when he's satisfied with that, he moves on to taste other parts of him simply because he can. Over his ribs, along his chest, down the center of his abdomen. He nuzzles his navel, cheek brushing against his belly. For a moment, all he does is rest there, and then, he gives a gentle nip to his side as he tugs at his pants.
There's intent to explore him all the way to his feet and back up again, taking his time and clearly patient with stripping Dorian so that he's only wearing his shirt. He resumes his exploration after that, stroking his thumb along the length of his thigh as he subconsciously follows the steady beating of his heart in that particularly delicious artery, and without a word, he traces it with his mouth, purposely ignoring touching him between his legs.
He's taking his time. He wants both of them to enjoy this. ]
no subject
It's vulnerable. Slow enough that there's space and time for his thoughts and emotions to seep in, space he prefers not to allow, still laden with the last dregs of sleep that they are. It's an opening up and a gentle perusing, rather than a throwing of all of himself into a distracting and riotously violent oblivion. It's satisfying, but part of him still itches at allowing himself a full indulgence in that satisfaction.
That manner of the lowering of his walls is how he's allowed himself to be cut deeply, and then been left carrying the burden in his endlessly recording memories when friends and lovers died, again and again.
There's no resistance, though, to allowing Larus to taste his skin above one of the most vulnerable arteries in his body. It's a particularly sensitive spot, one not often touched, and Dorian moans softly, the fingers in the other man's hair unconsciously curling that smallest bit tighter at the pleasure of it. He closes his eyes, partly to indulge, partly to put the smallest shred of distance between himself and what's happening.
This slow taking apart of him through his senses is something he can allow, however much of a riskier drawing of this man more deeply into his life and soul it might represent. It's been earned. It's what he decided upon, for better and worse.]
no subject
He's not suffered through the heartbreak of countless years, but he understands the loneliness that comes from it. Different circumstances that shape the way they are, and yet, somehow, they've still come to find one another like this. It's a fondness he can really no longer deny, slipping down to kiss the inside of Dorian's knee as he bends his leg to make more room for himself to follow the softness of his thigh to the top. He repeats it on the other side, fingers stroking down a calf and up again until he's satisfied with all the places he's discovered.
Then, just as carefully, without giving him the relief of his hand (or mouth) at his cock, Larus treks his way up to his face. The kiss he gives him is deep, sucking at his tongue and gently ending it with a soft bite to his lower lip. ]
I want to touch you like that again.
[ Murmured against his cheek, and if Dorian doesn't stop him, he's going to continue until they're both absolutely crazy from it and someone caves for something more. ]
no subject
This moment is an interlude: a short break from allowing more thoughts, and feelings about the connection between them to slip in. A breather.
He gathers Larus close to him, fingernails running up the length of the soft planes of skin of his back, and ending at his shoulders.]
Why don't you finish what you've started?
no subject
Since you asked, [ he breathes, taking another kiss before slipping down between his legs.
He uses his lips and his tongue to taste him, licking over the tip of his cock to take Dorian down without any hesitation. There's no hurry to it, but he doesn't tease him as he'd done before, pushing until he feels him in his throat. The need to breathe isn't there so it's not that difficult for him to keep him there, waiting just a second to adjust to the sensation of it before he moves. It's a steady rhythm, swallowing him deep each time, and his fingers dig gently into the flesh of Dorian's thighs, dragging to the sides to hold his hips.
If he chose, he could come like this, and there wouldn't be a single complaint about it from Larus, caressing a hipbone with his thumb as he lifts his head and then sinks down. As he keeps everything steady and unhurried, like there's nothing else but this and them and the way Dorian feels beneath him. ]