Mischief Managed

[Ian Yi]

"Oh, you are a playful one..."

Ian wasn't shy at all; he went for what he wanted, despite the fact that there had been a few moments of hesitation over the phone. Somebody sent Val into his hands--fuck if he could remember who that person was right now--and he thanked them for that. It had been a while since he had such fun with just one boy, alone in a room like this. Usually, when he tested a new one, he had to get an accompanying harem boy to come in and help tickle them out of their holes. Some of them just were no fun, really. Val, though, he obviously loved a good time. It was in every part of his body language; that could have been the drugs talking.

"Don't be afraid to hurt me," he spoke against Val's lips as he kissed him, his own lower lip throbbing. The heady mix of pain melded with pleasure; this was what Ian still lived for. Hedonism might have been a sin in some cultures and religions but Ian went by his own code: have fun. As long as everything was fun, he didn't care about anything else. Consequences be damned. If something happened, he'd just reappear elsewhere in a few years' time.

He bucked against the tugs and strokes but really--he could take more. Val might not be shy but he wasn't quite rough, either. Playful, though. All he needed was a little training. Ian slid his hand over the small of Val's back and then groped the rise of his ass, smiling as he licked his lower lip. He grasped and massaged before he pulled Val's legs up to investigate what lay between.

"Are you afraid I'll hurt you?"

[Val Conroy]

Val was, yes, playful. He lived to play--to enjoy himself and to glut himself on all that life had to offer. He wanted to live and to go out in a blaze of glory, not simply exist, plodding forward with a dead-end job, living out of some shithole in the wall. There wasn't a bone in his body that wanted to work. If he couldn't buy it, he used what he had to get it--his body, his ready wit, his dubious ability to charm. In that respect, he had much in common with Ian, although Val's methods were admittedly much more crude.

"I'm not afraid," he laughed, as the pretty rainbow drug seized him in its embrace--and as Ian's groping hands made him grin and press into them. He was floating; he was high above the world, above any worries and cares. Val didn't even care what happened to his body; he laid himself bare, vulnerable, at Ian's disposal to do with as he wished. His legs opened wider as Ian parted them, not so much as the hint of a blush on Val's cheeks as he put himself shamelessly and wantonly on display.

"I know the safe word," Val whispered impishly. "It's mustard. No... Wait. Cocaine."

His lips trailed lower; he left a smattering of playful bites and nips down one side of Ian's throat. He forgot--Ian was one of those people. Val wasn't much into pain himself, but he could oblige. His kisses grew rougher, as did the ministrations of his hand. Val shifted restlessly, lower body throbbing. "Are you gonna do something with this..." He gave Ian a persuasive squeeze. "Or am I gonna have to take things into my own hands here?"

[Ian Yi]

"You don't even know which one," Ian said with a devious smile. Safe words weren't really in his line of business. Ian didn't like anything to be safe. Those days had been long left behind him, to the days when he was still mortal. As he was now, what did he have to fear? So little. The anxieties of daily living in their world were so far beneath him at this point--he had no use of a job, finding food, a home. Hardly anything could hurt him and it was easy enough to spot those that would. Besides, most people wouldn't believe him even if he outright declared himself to be a vampire.

Like Val here. He had no idea and yet he had been fed the truth, in a form.

Ian laughed, a low, throaty laugh. Val's lips and teeth were making their way down an all too familiar path. Tilting his head back, Ian allowed it to go on. Eyelashes fluttered gently as heavy lids closed. That action was brief--just a flutter of a butterfly's wings. It felt good to have Val's warmth against him: warm hands, warm lips, warm tongue. Hard teeth. A little aggravation. Ian smiled lazily. Aggravation. Now that was a strong word for Val's eagerness.

"You like to rush things, don't you?" Ian mused as his fingers stroked Val's hair. Soft. "Young people tend to. The world just doesn't move fast enough for them..."

[Val Conroy]

"It was cocaine!" Val protested, though it was true that the drugs made his mind work extra slowly and extra sluggishly. Thoughts crawled along, looking for connections to the real world. Instead, all he could focus on was Ian, and the pleasurable torment that his aching, excited body was forced to endure as Ian took his sweet time getting around to the main attraction, so to speak.

He liked the sound of Ian's laugh, though. It felt like a rare achievement. Val had seen him smirking, had seen his amused expression, but this laugh sounded genuine. It made him grin, too, even as Ian stroked his hair like he was a pet cat. Val arched into him again with an impatient groan.

"Maybe I got somewhere to be after this," he sighed, as one of his restless hands slipped down, low and around to shamelessly grope at Ian's ass. Val twisted slightly, not quite sure how to get what he wanted—for Ian to get on with it, and to stop stalling already. What was the hold up? Did he want more of this foreplay? It wasn't exactly what Val signed up for—he came here to get high, fuck and then... probably roll out. Val was no romantic, by any definition of the word.

"Come on. Fuck me. I know you want to."

[Ian Yi]

Cocaine. As a safe word. It was so absurd but it was cute that Val was so adamant about hanging onto some so-called safe word to keep him from getting in too deep. It was too bad that he had already fallen in deeper than Ian suspected he could climb out. That was fine by Ian; he would be the one standing at the mouth of the hole whenever Val attempted to climb up out of it. Whether that was to step on his hand, throw him back into the pit, or maybe take his hand... That had more to do with Val himself than Ian. (Although Ian did fickle tastes; they tended to change on a whim.)

"Where?" Ian asked. "Nowhere's more important than this."

His gaze landed on Val's throat. There were a lot of pretty places to observe on the body laid out before him but the throat... It still tempted him, just as much--if not more--than it had in the days when he was little more than a baby vampire. A little bloodling, if he said so himself. The fascination never did leave. Places where the pulse could be felt more strongly; those were places he fixated. But the throat... it was so pretty. So delicate. All it took was a snap and it would be over. All he wanted was a taste.

"I don't think you know me that well," Ian said, a touch mischievously.

[Val Conroy]

"You don't know my priorities," Val said with a touch of insouciance in his tone, not wanting to come across too cheap. The fact of the matter was that he didn't have anywhere better to be after this. He didn't have much of a social calendar, despite his flippant response to Ian over the phone about "checking his schedule." Val went where the wind blew, and often that meant that his plans changed on a dime to suit his own whims.

He sighed—impatiently—as Ian's gaze drifted low. But not that low. It seemed to land somewhere around his chest, which made him wonder. Maybe... that was his fetish? But then why have a guy here, if he was just going to ogle at a flat chest? Val's smile was vague and wryly amused at the mischievous lilt in Ian's tone.

"Right. You don't want to fuck me. That's why you got me here, gave me drugs, made me take off my clothes... and yours, all so you could not fuck me?"

...it actually bothered him a little bit, much to his surprise. Ian didn't want to do it? What was wrong with Val that made him unfuckable?! His indignation was veiled behind the effects of the drugs but even so, he frowned up at Ian. He wasn't irritated, however; he was confused.  That could've been the drugs though.

"If you're not gonna fuck me, then I'm getting outta here. Unless you just wanna sit on me all night and stare at my chest."

[Ian Yi]

"Hm."

That was his response. A noncommittal hum, barely a sound at all, from the back of his throat. Hooded eyes swept downward, since the conversation had turned toward fucking. Val's body looked ready and raring to go. A beautiful body, it was, in soft colors, with a creamy complexion some women would have killed for in the days Ian still drew real and honest breath. That fair skin went with fair hair, fair eyes. Exotic, where Ian came from. When he'd first laid eyes on boys like Val, he'd been astonished but he'd also been undoubtedly aroused. Even now, he couldn't deny that he did want him.

Ian could just fuck him and be done with it but Val's apparent vanity rubbed him in just that way. Not enough to annoy him but enough for Ian to believe he needed to be taken down a notch.

His gaze roved upward to meet Val's fair eyes. Pretty. Cheeky. Clouded by the prystal. Ian pushed a hand down against Val's chest to keep him in place--just in case he got some funny ideas.

"I plan to do more than that." He slid his fingers over the throbbing pulse of Val's throat. His eyes slid closed for a moment, the heat beginning to envelope him. Life... Life was so beautiful and precious and divine. So delicious. Turning Val's head to the side, he lowered his head so that his tongue could flick against that pearly throat. Lips followed--briefly. Then, oh so gently, came the teeth. Then the fangs.

His hips rolled against Val's hips suggestively before he slid his hand back down, low, sliding between Val's legs to part them further. To prepare him. To distract him. The sweet tang of blood slipped down his throat and he sighed. There really was nothing better in the world than a warm and beautiful boy to share the evening with.

[Val Conroy]

Val was unapologetically Val--and that usually meant pissing off a lot of people. That was life, though; couldn't please everybody, and Val wasn't trying to, either. Ignorant behind the true reason for Ian's compliance, he sighed. It was a contented, happy sound. Ah. Yes. Action. Fucking--as the French called it.

He let the drugs sweep him up and deposit him gently on his cloud nine, so much so that he failed to realize what was happening. That he, the foolish drunken fly, was being ensnared in the spider's web. His head spun a little. He felt something pinch at the side of his neck, but thought it was a hickey being administered. Well, whatever. Felt kinda good, actually...

Felt really good, once Ian's hand slid low. Val smiled up at the ceiling as he curled a languorous leg around Ian and arched up into him like a contented house cat, fingers trailing down his back idly, affectionately. "Ahh... right there..." The hickey on his throat throbbed pleasurably and tingled. Then the tingle spread all across his body, lighting him up from the inside.

Val moaned again, louder, squeezing his legs around Ian as the flames suddenly sparked to life. It confused him as much as it pleasured him, though--Ian hadn't done anything special, if he had to be honest, but... God, it felt better than he'd ever had it before.

[Ian Yi]

Blood, as a vampire, tasted different. To people, to human beings, the taste was usually compared to something metallic. To vampires, the taste was unique to the person. Some people had sweet blood, some had savory blood. Still others were almost bitter. Those tended to be people on some disgusting medication. Some people with certain blood disorders tasted almost sour.

Val was one of those types that tasted faintly sweet with a hint of the prystal. Prystal itself was sweet with a strange aftertaste that went away as it took over the system. Euphoria was a common side effect; it was made to make people lose themselves in pleasure. If it wasn't, that was how it was marketed.

Warm, euphoric, Ian closed his eyes and used his hands on Val as he occupied his throat. He massaged him, slid between him, opening him to his body. With prystal in his system, Val didn't need preparation but Ian enjoyed doing it. He liked the way Val's body curled around him like a flower toward the sun. Val was the warmth, though. He just didn't know it.

With more blood flowing through his body, Ian felt all the closer to the living. Licking the wound on Val's throat again, he trailed up to nip at his ear. Val was more than ready to go when Ian finally stopped teasing him and entered with a few shallow thrusts. (All right, so he was still teasing him a little.) Then his lips crashed against Val's as he made the plunge, filling Val to the hilt.

[Val Conroy]

Val had always been told that he was full-blooded but he never knew that it would be taken literally one day. The feeling of something being off began to dawn on him but thanks to the drugs, it was nothing more than a little pinch in the back of his mind. Most of him was still floating pleasurably. He was high but it was like nothing he had experienced before, with any other drug.

Why did he waste so much time with all that other shit? This was incomparable! And with the blood draining out of him, he grew more light-headed and dizzy with euphoria than ever. Val hardly knew what he was doing. He was vaguely aware that he writhed under Ian, that words--probably some very cheeky, saucy ones--were tumbling off the tip of his tongue. Even while high, Val's mouth couldn't be stopped.

It was embarrassing to admit, but Val was pretty close to the edge already, by the time Ian finally slid between his legs. He let out a soft gasp as Ian entered him, clenching around him as waves of pleasure crested and crashed. Val's nails dragged zig-zag lines down his back at the first teasing, shallow thrusts--he cursed, then cursed again, only to have it be cut off by a fierce kiss and by his own incoherent moan.

Fuck! Ian was like the god of fucking or something, Val swore to God. He bucked into Ian, nearly off the bed, then decided that it was time to stop laying there, just taking it. He was so close--and Ian might be that kind of sadist to deny him the release that he so rightly deserved. Without warning, Val bucked again, this time side-ways to try and flip them over. His grin was almost a little wild. On top, he could wreak so much more havoc.

[Ian Yi]

There it was: the claws, the tiger. Val was beyond entertaining and Ian didn't even have to pull out the chains and whips. Of course, when he'd been talking about sadism, he had a distinct feeling they were discussing two different topics. Poor Val was probably thinking about handcuffs and being chained to the wall with a damned ballgag in his mouth. Ian, on the other hand, preferred doing things in a different kind of way.

And oh, yes, he definitely would have denied Val any kind of release--that was part of the fun, wasn't it? Prolonging it until the other person was a mess of desire and need? He should have accounted for that tiger side of Val, though.

Ian could have used his strength to shove Val right back onto his back and force him to submit but why take the fire out of him just now? Breaking them wasn't nearly as fun if he crushed them from the start. So Ian let him get away with rolling him over and he laughed ever so softly as Val took the lead. Or he took the top position. That didn't necessarily mean that he'd taken the lead from him.

"Feisty, aren't you?" Ian purred.

[Val Conroy]

"That's what you brought me here for," he said glibly, pleased--beyond pleased, actually--that Ian was letting him have his way. No doubt about it, Ian was toying with him, but as long as it didn't interfere with what Val wanted, it didn't bother him. Everybody played games, whether or not they realized it. Hell, life was one big game to Val.

The drugs made him reckless and giddy. He didn't bother taking it slow, despite how his body would suffer for his haste later; his hips lifted and then bore down hard, setting a punishing pace from the start. Val moaned; his fingers clenched around Ian's shoulders, which he had taken to brace himself. The bed squeaked ever so softly with Val's exertions. He panted, lips seeking out lips, then throat, nipping and licking and sucking, leaving marks of his own. Except they didn't seem to linger for very long; the reddish marks faded before his eyes, much to his bemusement.

"Ian... ah..." He was so close... Val reached down to grasp himself; he wasn't the prissy type who needed to be "taken care of." After all these years on the streets, he'd learned his lesson: the only person he could lean on was himself. Briefly, Val's forehead came to rest against Ian's. His smile was still a little wild.

"Do it again." His voice was breathless, husky; his body rose and fell to a vicious new rhythm as he felt himself edging closer to release. "The thing you did with my throat. Do it again."

[Ian Yi]

Do what again? He didn't even have to ask because Val was so eager that he practically begged him for it. Ian's gaze flicked over the red marks on Val's throat, the puncture wounds evident to himself. Val didn't know what they were; he didn't know what they looked like or what it meant for Ian to "do it again." Still, Ian's hedonism wouldn't allow him to rebuff him. If that was what Val wanted--and it was what Ian wanted--he had to oblige him, didn't he? It was only fair for both of them. So he smiled back, not as wildly as Val but definitely with mischief lighting his eyes.

"You liked that, hm?" Ian slid fingertips over the marks, admiring his own handiwork. Val looked like he was too close to the edge so it would benefit him if he teased him. Sometimes he missed that feeling, of being the one with the marks on his body, the one whose blood was taken. There was something in the gaze of a vampire, in their fangs, in the slick of their tongue... He almost envied Val his position. He'd never be in that position ever again but Val... Val still had time left, if Ian didn't ruin it.

He wouldn't--not yet. Humans were more fun than vampires. Besides, vampires were completely useless to him.

Leaning in, he slid his tongue over the twin wounds against Val's throat. Rather than sink his fangs in the same place, he trailed a line of too-tender kisses over his clavicle and over to the other side of his throat. Tilting Val's head to the side, he nipped lightly before letting sharp teeth penetrate Val's skin, even as he bucked his lower body into Val for extra emphasis.

[Val Conroy]

Val simply smiled back and nodded. Yeah. He liked that. It was different from all the other times some guy—usually a dealer, he wouldn't lie—slobbered over his neck. For one thing, Ian seemed to know what he was doing. For another thing, he was a hell of a lot better looking than 99% of the dealers that Val had known, especially when he smiled like that, which helped quite a bit. Hey, what could he say? He was as shallow as they came, so Ian wasn't alone in that aspect.

"Mm... you're good..." High praise coming from someone having trouble stringing together a coherent thought. Val tilted his head willingly and readily, not in the least shy about offering up his throat. It wasn't like Ian was a vampire or something; not like he'd take advantage of Val's impaired state to tear out his throat and feast on his blood. Then again, even if he was, Val wouldn't have cared. He was a little far gone by then.

A softly contented sound slipped out at Ian's gentle kisses, something in their intimacy not quite to Val's liking. He liked the sensation but didn't like the threat they posed. Val wasn't about emotions. He wasn't about attachment, either. No strings anywhere near him, that was for damn sure. Luckily, Ian moved on from there and Val was rewarded by another sharp prick at the side of his neck, and then—

It was the pinch of pain and the sudden thrust of Ian's hips that undid him. He uttered a garbled curse as he came, nails digging into the pillow by Ian's head as he nearly collapsed on top of him. The kind of pleasure that rocked through him was indescribable. Literally, he had no word for it. Mindless euphoria seemed like an understatement. Having his brains fucked out... eh, a little closer but there really was no word to sum up how every nerve ending lit up simultaneously, overwhelming him, drowning him in sensation.

He did collapse on top of Ian, breathing hard, mind scrambled. Val shook and shivered several moments after his climax, as the sharp sensations slowly mellowed out into a glorious, deep sense of satisfaction. "You... you're... you win."

[Ian Yi]

Of course he was good--he'd had so much time to perfect this little seduction game. Ian was inordinately proud of his prowess in the romantic arena, despite the fact that he merely kept pretty things for as long as they entertained them. It was a game to him and pretty things only stayed pretty so long. He didn't keep them around long enough to see them grow bitter, jaded, and ugly. He liked them best when they were still young and full of wonder and mischief. They were most fun around this age. Best looking, too, since they were still youthful without being childlike and still innocent in a way. The world hadn't yet crushed them, the way it would a decade or so later.

Ian smirked to himself when Val finally climaxed and it was a beautiful moment. He shared in the moment, although a tiny wisp of regret threaded his artificially beating heart. Not regret for this, the moment in which they were in, but regret that he would never be human again the same way that Val was human right now. His experiences were different now and he'd never feel it just the way Val did. Still, he reveled in for as long as he could, watching the brief madness take Val and his body.

Only when Val collapsed atop him did he close his eyes, breathing in the scent of his newest lover's shampoo. He opened his eyes as Val shivered. His smile was definitely self satisfied as he lightly stroked the wound on Val's throat.

"I always win," he murmured.