Author's note: This is for James, on her bed of travail. I hope you're feeling better soon. Sorry, I couldn't work the mukluks in. I hope you'll accept fur lined boots. A Healing Touch by Leslie G. S. Nicholas looked up from his book, which had been strongly recommended by Lacroix, as the front door opened, a bit relieved. The hand printed Greek letters were starting to twist in his vision. A chill wind gusted through the room, rousing the drowsing fire before Lacroix shut the door, rather firmly, behind him. Taking in the other man's disheveled appearance, Nicholas exclaimed, "Good lord, Lacroix, what happened to you?" The elder vampire, lips tightly compressed, eyed his protege with some annoyance before he responded, "That damned brute of a horse slipped on the ice and came down on top of me." "Oh," Nicholas replied, a bit astonished, as Lacroix was quite the adroit horseman, "you couldn't kick free in time?" "I was a bit ... distracted," Lacroix growled. "Ah?" "The wench was reaching for my ... purse." An almost unwilling smirk slid across his features. "The ... wench?" Nicholas queried, a mischievous glint appearing in his eye. "The wench I had sitting in front of me on the horse." "And she was reaching for your ... purse." "Well, *somewhere* in the area just below my belt." "I understand your ... distraction, in that case." Nicholas's openly amused smile slipped somewhat, as Lacroix stepped further into the room, a slight wince twitching his features. "Are you hurt?" he asked, concerned for the first time that something might actually be amiss. "No. My fall was, fortunately, cushioned. No good fortune comes without a measure of cost, however. I came down in a ... briar hedge," Lacroix replied, shrugging cautiously out of his woolen cloak and letting it fall to the floor. "I seem to have picked up a few thorns." "Where?" Nicholas asked, striding over to Lacroix, brows furrowed in sympathy. Slivers of any woody plant in vampiric flesh felt like a caustic burn. "In my ... back." "Your ... back?" Nicholas's lips quirked, as he struggled to restrain his amusement. "My *back*," Lacroix growled insistently, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Well, let me see to them, Lacroix. I'll help you get your doublet and shirt off." Before the elder vampire could protest, Nicholas quickly began undoing the points tying Lacroix's hose to his tunic, then skinned the tunic over his head. His under shirt soon followed. The removal of both garments plucked free a number of the thorns caught in the fabric, but there were still a good two dozen barbs remaining in the man's pale, muscular back. Lacroix caught his hose in one hand to prevent them from sliding down around his ankles. "Come over by the fire. I can see a bit better there." Nicholas pulled Lacroix over to the hearth, turning him so that the ruddy firelight brought a misleading warm tint to the vampire's marble smooth skin. The dark heads of the brambles were easy to spot, and Nicholas grasped one between his fingernails and deftly pulled it out. He blinked, startled. The thorn was easily an inch long. He tossed it into the fire and moved quickly on to the next. Lacroix stood unflinching as he probed at his back. The tantalizing scent of the man's blood tickled Nicholas's nostrils and he found himself leaning forward to place his lips on the small, closing wound, the tip of his tongue darting out to taste. "What are you doing, Nicholas?" Lacroix queried, tone somewhat startled. "Kissing it better," he responded lightly, though the heady power of his master's blood sent a pulse of energy through his body, coming to center itself in his groin. He deftly plucked another thorn from Lacroix's flesh, flicking it into the fire, before his lips pressed against the tiny red droplet that formed on the white skin. He felt his master's sudden little intake of breath under his mouth and smiled. "Is that any better?" he murmured, breath ghosting across Lacroix's skin. "Should I continue?" The man glanced at him from the corner of one eye. "Much better. Please do. You have quite the ... healing touch." Smiling, Nicholas continued to pluck the cruel thorns from his master's flesh, sucking gently at each wound before it closed. The man's growing arousal became a pulsing pressure in his mind. He eased the last briar from Lacroix's lower back, kneeling to reach it better. He slid his hands around the man's waist, deftly jerking the top of his hose from his fingers, then, as they slid down Lacroix's legs, finding the tie to his under garments. "Any under here?" "Perhaps a few," admitted Lacroix. He hunched forward a bit as Nicholas eased the silk drawers over his erection, then stood, eyes closed, as the boy extracted the last few briars from his upper buttocks. Nicholas's hands wandered up and down his flanks as he kissed and tongued the quickly healing wounds. He sighed with relief as the last one left his flesh, then gasped as Nicholas slid a hand around to cup his genitals. He grasped the boy's wrist and pulled him around to stand in front of him. "Thank you," he said, gazing into eyes that flickered with a golden tint that matched his own. "You have a ... soothing touch." "Strange," drawled Nicholas. "You don't appear ... soothed." He drew his free hand lightly up Lacroix's cock. He pushed the man back to sit in one of the chairs facing the fire. Smiling, Lacroix complied, sitting quietly as Nicholas, kneeling, stripped off his fur lined boots, tossing them in a corner, to be followed quickly by his hose and drawers. Pushing himself between Lacroix's knees, Nicholas took the man's face between his hands and kissed him. Lightly at first, then with more heat, he pressed his tongue against Lacroix's lips, forcing them open. Nicholas flicked his tongue tip over Lacroix's teeth, pleased to feel the man jerk in reaction. Lacroix pushed him back, then stood, pulling Nicholas to his own feet, and with quick fingers, undressed him between butterfly light kisses on his face, neck, shoulders, chest, nipples. Nicholas toed himself out of his hose and house slippers, then Lacroix pulled him down to the thick Persian carpet set before the hearth. Caught in the man's embrace, he savored the long, hard muscled length of his master's body against his. Then Lacroix began his light kisses again, working his way down Nicholas's body, lingering a time on the tight little buds of his nipples, fingers trailing over his abdomen and thighs. Finally he set a kiss on the tip of Nicholas's impatient cock, eliciting a gasp and then a sigh of delight as his cool, full lips opened, engulfing the swollen glans. Lacroix, mouth still on Nicholas, swung himself around, to bring his hips near the younger vampire's head. Eagerly, Nicholas propped himself up on one elbow, and took Lacroix up in his mouth. They eased closer to one another, lying on their sides, one's actions mirrored and elaborated on by the other. Soon though, Lacroix, unable to resist asserting himself, rolled Nicholas onto his back, thrusting into his mouth, as his own lips and tongue worked up and down the boy's cock. He smiled at Nicholas's growls of combined annoyance and arousal as, with his hips straining upward to plunge himself deeper into his master's teasing mouth, he attempted to tip Lacroix back onto his side. After a few moments, Lacroix allowed it, surprising Nicholas as he rolled all the way over onto his own back, carrying the boy so he was now on top. Nicholas recovered from his startlement quickly, however, pushing himself deeply between Lacroix's willing lips. Lacroix took him in avidly, sucking hard, this symbolic consumption of his creation, his son, intensely arousing. He brought his hands around Nicholas's thighs on either side of his ears to stroke the velvety scrotum, to run fingers lightly around the sensitive ring of muscles between his buttocks. Nicholas's lust battered against his mind and he found himself shuddering uncontrollably. The boy's wild thrusts brought him again and again against Lacroix's descended fangs, and the burning intensity of Nicholas's blood set fire to his cold heart. Gasping, he rolled them back onto their sides again, pulling away from the boy's cock. Nicholas, snarling and golden eyed, glared angrily at him, furious at his interrupted drive to a climax. Reveling in his rage, in his son's hot passions, Lacroix laughed outright. "Bite me, Nicholas," he demanded, opening up his thighs. "Bite me here." Smiling wickedly, the boy opened his mouth wide and slid the points of his fangs across the tender skin of Lacroix's inner thigh. "Here?" he growled. "Yes, yes," Lacroix moaned. He pushed Nicholas's legs roughly apart and set his lips against the hard muscled flesh. He took up the boy's penis in a deft, light fingered hand, skimming rapidly up and down the velvety skin. His tongue drew cool, tight circles over Nicholas's spasmodically jerking thigh. Lacroix grunted as Nicholas's hard hand closed roughly over his cock. After three centuries, he'd have thought the boy would have learned a little finesse. But the younger vampire's insistent tugging and the teasing tips of his lust-sharpened teeth soon brought him to the brink. He opened his own mouth and sank his aching fangs into Nicholas's flesh. The blood blazed in him, as close to sunlight as he dared come, searing him with an agonizing rapture. The boy cried out, then bit fiercely into Lacroix's thigh. The piercing pleasure/pain slashed up his spine and his orgasm burst over him. Nicholas, screaming, came into his hand. He had one quick impression of his fingers, slick with semen, sliding down then up the boy's iron hard shaft, before he was overwhelmed by his lover's explosion of bliss. Mingled with his own, it was too much, he was defeated, overcome, and groaning, he yielded to mindless ecstasy. He arrived to himself again, Nicholas's head snuggled against his shoulder, with Janette standing over them where they lay on the hearth rug. "Mon dieu, Lacroix, in the front room now. I hope you haven't ruined my carpet." She swung her cape off her shoulders, flicking the droplets of melting snow onto the two wastrels sprawled on her best Persian rug. "He started it," the man drawled, stretching out one languid arm to her. "Come, don't stop with your cloak. Continue." Nicholas chuckled, when after a small moue of annoyance, Janette smiled impishly and began adding her garments to theirs already scattered across the floor. The End (Sort of)
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