hampire: (Default)
Eccarius ([personal profile] hampire) wrote2024-09-06 09:24 am
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𝓘𝓒 𝓘𝓷𝓫𝓸𝔁




"𝓘'𝓶 𝓪 𝓵𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓫𝓾𝓼𝔂 𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽 𝓷𝓸𝔀; 𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓶𝓮𝓼𝓼𝓪𝓰𝓮 𝓪𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓭 𝓸𝓯 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓫𝓮𝓮𝓹."
crassidy: (60)

[personal profile] crassidy 2018-11-16 12:22 am (UTC)(link)
He can barely relate to all the merlot and champagne stuff, but he gets the idea. Different but good. Maybe one day he'll try it for himself, maybe, but for now he's just glad to do what he can for Eccarius that doesn't involve biting.

"C'mere, then, gorgeous. Lemmie help with some of that." A slight kissy face and an arm opening up for a hug is enough suggestion that he wants Eccarius up by him, in better reaching and smooching distance as he lies there.
crassidy: (010)

[personal profile] crassidy 2018-11-17 01:25 am (UTC)(link)
The answer comes in a kiss, leaning up to meet Eccarius' lips while both hands reach around to grip firmly at leather clad ass. Although the kiss doesn't last long as he drops back into the mattress, it's genuine and open, as is the little chuckle that follows.

"Think m'actually gonna miss you for the next few weeks." It strikes him that they've spent a fair amount of time together both here and back home, more than Cassidy is used to with his nomadic tendencies.
crassidy: (21)

[personal profile] crassidy 2018-11-17 11:29 pm (UTC)(link)
"Jaysus, I think we've already managed that," he points out with light amusement, because he sure won't forget that blood sucking any time soon, it's a first in his century of life.

Eccarius undoubtedly deserves some relief of his own, though, and Cass meets that grind of hips with snaking a hand between them, slowly working that zipper as he quirks a curious eyebrow.

"Want me returnin' the favour there, love? Bite? Suck? Maybe a fuck?"

It may not be the most romantic of approaches, but Cassidy likes to keep communication open.
crassidy: (025)

[personal profile] crassidy 2018-11-19 04:24 pm (UTC)(link)
With that decision made, Cass moves to kick his own jeans from off his ankles, squirming under Eccarius to finally free himself of them. And once that zipper is open his hand slips in and cups, the inactivity a light tease.

"Just don't expect me own lad to be up to much, alright? I got puncture marks to be contendin' with." Ones that won't be healing until he gets a pint or two of blood inside himself. He's fairly certain he's lost more than that thanks to his blood thirsty boyfriend, and therefore any lack of responsiveness or usual bursts of activity can be excused, he thinks.