It's been a lazy kind of day for the pair of soulmates. A late breakfast in place of lunch, some reading next to each other on the couch to the gentle sounds of Chopin, and now a hot bath scented with rose oil. Dorian was kind enough to read to them for a time, though Toby's focus has been much more on simply relaxing with his lover. His stomach - the monstrous one inside him that craves satiation in the form of human blood - is gnawing at him again and it's poking at the vampire in the worst of ways.
It would be easy to reach out and ask to feed off the other man; It's more difficult to grapple with how wrong it often still feels. He's managed a handful of times, when at the edge of his pain tolerance, to take his lover's wrist in hand and sate himself just enough to last another week or so, but it's so far from what he's been wanting. The connection that comes from drinking from Dorian is intense, but it's so much more when they're more intimate about it. Taking the man's life between his teeth, feeling him course through his veins as they complete each other in a way no other act ever could, it's... intoxicating, perfect despite the darkness that accompanies it. He wants it so badly, but getting there has been out of his reach.
There were a few other times he was close to going for it. They've been physically intimate so many times since finding one another again that Toby's lost count, and every time he presses his lips to Dorian's neck he wonders if he could do it. On a few rare occasions, he's even gone so far as to ask and gotten an enthusiastic yes in response, but every time he bared his fangs or put them to soft flesh, his mind would flash back to somewhere else. A dark alley, a corner of a crowded lobby, a bathroom stall, under a broken lamppost where no one could see. The face was different each time, but the process was the same: They were expendable food and he didn't give a shit about them. He charmed them, he bit them, and he left them. Seeing that when he knew he was with Dorian, in their home and with full consent, made his skin crawl and his stomach turn. He'd push himself away at the last second and turn away, panting and shaking as he dealt with the terror and the memories. It was a little easier to deal with each time, especially with his soulmate at his side. It also made it easier to reach for it the next time he tries.
So as they let all cares for the day melt away into the heat of their bath between the occasional kiss or addition of more hot water, Toby's thoughts drift again to the dueling desires of being closer to the man in his arms and the hunger gnawing at him. He winces at the mere thought of the latter, although he tries to cover it by shifting a little. Now that he inevitably has Dorian's attention, though, he thinks it's time to bring up what's on his mind.
"Say, Dorian," he begins slowly, his hands already beginning to fidget by stroking his lover's arms gently, "I... I think I want to try again. The hunger's getting to me, but I don't want your wrist. I want you, like we used to all the time." He hesitates and takes a breath to settle himself a bit before he demonstratively presses a kiss to Dorian's neck. "I miss you and I miss this with you, and I don't want to keep holding out forever."
no subject
It would be easy to reach out and ask to feed off the other man; It's more difficult to grapple with how wrong it often still feels. He's managed a handful of times, when at the edge of his pain tolerance, to take his lover's wrist in hand and sate himself just enough to last another week or so, but it's so far from what he's been wanting. The connection that comes from drinking from Dorian is intense, but it's so much more when they're more intimate about it. Taking the man's life between his teeth, feeling him course through his veins as they complete each other in a way no other act ever could, it's... intoxicating, perfect despite the darkness that accompanies it. He wants it so badly, but getting there has been out of his reach.
There were a few other times he was close to going for it. They've been physically intimate so many times since finding one another again that Toby's lost count, and every time he presses his lips to Dorian's neck he wonders if he could do it. On a few rare occasions, he's even gone so far as to ask and gotten an enthusiastic yes in response, but every time he bared his fangs or put them to soft flesh, his mind would flash back to somewhere else. A dark alley, a corner of a crowded lobby, a bathroom stall, under a broken lamppost where no one could see. The face was different each time, but the process was the same: They were expendable food and he didn't give a shit about them. He charmed them, he bit them, and he left them. Seeing that when he knew he was with Dorian, in their home and with full consent, made his skin crawl and his stomach turn. He'd push himself away at the last second and turn away, panting and shaking as he dealt with the terror and the memories. It was a little easier to deal with each time, especially with his soulmate at his side. It also made it easier to reach for it the next time he tries.
So as they let all cares for the day melt away into the heat of their bath between the occasional kiss or addition of more hot water, Toby's thoughts drift again to the dueling desires of being closer to the man in his arms and the hunger gnawing at him. He winces at the mere thought of the latter, although he tries to cover it by shifting a little. Now that he inevitably has Dorian's attention, though, he thinks it's time to bring up what's on his mind.
"Say, Dorian," he begins slowly, his hands already beginning to fidget by stroking his lover's arms gently, "I... I think I want to try again. The hunger's getting to me, but I don't want your wrist. I want you, like we used to all the time." He hesitates and takes a breath to settle himself a bit before he demonstratively presses a kiss to Dorian's neck. "I miss you and I miss this with you, and I don't want to keep holding out forever."