Author's note: One of my fellow Unnameds wrote us a naughty bit on our loop, part of the missing scene after the flashback in "Trophy Girl", where Nick accidently snacks on Lacroix's honey and wine girl. She ended her bit with the challenge, "That's all I have, at least for now. I leave the rest to YOUR imagination." Mmmm, well, this is what _my_ imagination came up with. Standard disclaimers. Graphic M/M sex. Honey and Wine He lowered the girl to the bed, his eyes trailing down her lovely but very dead form. But her life sang in him, and Lacroix was right, the honey and wine, sweet and sparkling, danced in his veins. He rolled the last mouthful over his tongue, drunk with more than her blood. Her lust, her tipsy giddiness, suffused his limbs, made his head swim, tightened his groin. He looked up, abruptly aware of an intruder, eyes still golden, lips twisting into the beginning of a snarl. Faster than his reeling thoughts could follow, he found himself slammed up against a wall, hard, staring, blinking and dazed, into the enraged features of Lacroix. A deep growl rumbled in his master's chest as he glared at Nicholas, unspeaking. Sense returned to him slowly and with a sinking dread, he realized what an awful mistake he had made. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he whispered breathlessly. "I don't know...." He panted a moment, trying to come up with some acceptable explanation. Lamely, he finished, "I was only trying to protect her." Lacroix's hand shot up and Nicholas winced a bit, expecting a blow. But Lacroix only flicked the tip of his middle finger roughly down the side of his chin. His master's eyes moved from Nicholas's to gaze at his own fingertip, glistening bright red. Closing his golden eyes, he brought the meager scrap of his stolen dinner to his tongue, and was caught a moment in the rich sweetness of the blood. Oh, she was everything he had hoped she'd be and his fury at his loss snapped his eyes open again. "Intoxicating," he snarled into the chagrined, frightened face of his son, "wasn't she?" He twisted his fist more firmly into Nicholas's doublet, giving him a little shake. Wincing, blinking, Nicholas looked away, out of his depth, frightened by Lacroix, but still besotted with Liselle's blood. Lacroix allowed the boy to slide down the wall, and he loomed over him, shoving his body against the younger vampire's, clenching his fist as he prepared to strike. Something came to his attention, though, through their link and their physical contact. His eyes cooled abruptly, and he smiled with cruel amusement. Knee sliding between Nicholas's legs, he pressed a hard muscled thigh against the enticing firmness straining within the codpiece. "Is this for her?" he murmured, flexing his leg against the other's crotch. "Or for me?" Nicholas's gaze met Lacroix's for an instant, then skittered off to fix on some vague point over the older vampire's shoulder. "Either way, she has no use for it any longer. I, on the other hand...." Long, strong fingers reached up under Nicholas's doublet and snapped the ties fastening his codpiece to his hose one by one, the boy jerking at the sound of each tearing pop. The fabric pouch fell to the floor and then exquisitely light fingertips ghosted up his semi-erect phallus. With a spasm of indignation at this final intimate trespass, Nicholas, growling, knocked Lacroix's hand aside. He found himself slammed back again and a snarling, golden eyed demon tearing at his clothing. In moments, he was naked, livid red streaks on his flesh where Lacroix in his outraged fury had clawed him. Tattered cloth littered the floor at his feet. Chest heaving with his passion mixed of rage and lust, Lacroix stepped back, glaring at his rebellious whelp. Chin up, Nicholas met his gaze with narrowed eyes, defiant, though the trembling of his limbs revealed his fear. Until now his bed-sport with Lacroix came of the lust a good hunt generated or the boredom of a long day trapped in a lair, and always with Janette as a participant. He had never been alone with Lacroix and never with the man in a rage. His maker was not shy about applying punishment when he saw fit, but it had never been a part of their games. A chill spread through him. Lacroix, master of exquisite pleasure, was no doubt equally the master of exquisite pain. "Get on the bed," Lacroix growled, teeth retracted but eyes still sparking. "Please, Lacroix," Nicholas whispered, not at all eager to tumble with the man enraged. "Get on the bed," he demanded again, sharply, fists clenched as he took a half-step forward. Nicholas slid rapidly around the man and darted for the bed, eyes flitting guiltily over Liselle's still form. Lacroix followed him, and Nicholas huddled at the head of the bed, away from the woman's body, as Lacroix stripped, staring at him, lips tight with displeasure. The nerve of the boy, to rob him his anticipated pleasure, then to reject his caress. The wretch, vampire or no, was going to walk with a limp for a week by the time he was through. All very well, this forlorn, pleading look he offered him now, like a hound fearing a whipping. All very well the fine frightened tremor of his limbs. One of the points fastening his hose to his tunic snarled under his angry fingers and with fierce self-restraint he teased the knot loose rather than tear the silk. The momentary distraction gave him the small space of time he needed to collect himself. The boy owed him, certainly, and deserved ... correction. But was it wise to bring the brutal pain he intended to the pastime that had afforded them only pleasure and sweet company up to this point? His eyes lit upon the pottery jar of honey he had used to flavor the woman's wine. An old trick of one of his boyish favorites from his mortal days, a charming little Hellene, flashed through his mind. He smiled, glancing up at Nicholas, who involuntarily edged back from the expression on his master's face. Lacroix chuckled, and finished undressing in a more leisurely fashion, at last standing nude before Nicholas. The boy, sensing the change his mood, seemed perhaps a bit less frightened, though much more puzzled. It didn't appear that Lacroix was going to leap on him and savage him any longer, but it was highly unlikely he was going to get out of this completely unscathed. Lacroix fetched the sturdy armless chair from its place against the wall and set it beside the bed, facing Nicholas. Seating himself, he reached out a long arm and picked up the pot of honey, pulled out the little wooden spoon and watched the amber fluid ooze back into the pot. He had momentary second thoughts. This was going to get ... sticky. He loathed being sticky. The Hellene's coy little smile tickled through his memory and he smirked himself. Cleaning up in his large marble tub could prove quite amusing as well. With a quick hooded glance at the curious Nicholas, Lacroix dangled the dripping spoon over his erection, letting the honey flow over and down his flesh, then taking another full helping. As he recalled, the thicker, the better. Nicholas's eyes and mouth widened, as Lacroix put down the little pot, then used one hand to stroke himself, spreading the viscous fluid evenly over his penis. He lingered, eyelids drooping as he gazed at Nicholas's face. The boy's hand crept to his own crotch as he stiffened watching Lacroix pleasure himself. Taking his hand from himself, Lacroix stared at it in some distaste. "Get the wine, Nicholas, there on the table." Nicholas quickly stood up, partially turning away from his master in a half-hearted attempt to conceal his own arousal. He picked up the bottle of Liebfraumilch and at Lacroix's impatient wriggling of his fingers, poured it over his sticky hand. The heady fumes of the fruity wine filled the room, mingling with that of the honey, bringing to both their minds Liselle's scent. Both men savored the pulse of pleasure that surged through their groins. Nicholas put down the empty bottle and dried Lacroix's hand with a corner of the sheet. Smiling benignly up at his waiting son, Lacroix murmured, "Now come here, boy. You owe me a certain recompense." Nicholas's stomach lurched at the thought of the honey, sticky sweet on his tongue, undiluted by blood. But he took the step forward, than sank to his knees before the seated Lacroix. As he bent, licking his lips uneasily, to take his master into his mouth, the man stopped him, catching his chin in one hand. The man tilted Nicholas's face up to meet his eyes. Smirking, he drawled, "Well, my boy, while I ... appreciate your enthusiasm, that is not precisely what I had in mind." He pushed up on Nicholas's chin, bringing him, brows furrowed in puzzlement, back to his feet. Releasing his chin as he rose, Lacroix reached out with both hands, placing them on Nicholas's hips. As he drew the boy closer, he inserted his own legs between the younger vampire's. Impulsively, Lacroix leaned forward, his cool tongue emerging to explore the sensitive hollow of Nicholas's navel. Having softened at the thought of the sickening honey, Nicholas's penis bobbed up again, tapping Lacroix under the chin. "Cheeky devil," Lacroix murmured, pushing Nicholas back slightly. The younger vampire gasped, clenching his fists, as the tip of Lacroix's tongue swirled around his glans, sliding back the foreskin before his lips closed over him, gliding slowly down the shaft. His tongue stroked firmly along the underside of Nicholas's penis as Lacroix took him deep, deep, closing his eyes, nails biting lightly into the boy's flanks. He lost himself a moment in the scent of his son, savoring the taste of him, the soft skin against his lips and tongue, the shivering echo in his own mind of Nicholas's growing pleasure. With a sudden, sharp breath, he pushed the younger vampire back, eliciting an imperfectly suppressed moan of disappointment from him. Blinking, gold flecks sprinkled in the ice blue of his eyes, he said a bit thickly, "Actually, that is not what I had in mind, either." He reached further behind Nicholas, lightly skimming his palms over his hard muscled buttocks, pulling him closer and down. "Sit," he said huskily, honey slathered cock jerking in anticipation. Understanding dawned in Nicholas, and he took a deep breath, then released it, consciously relaxing against the little twist in his guts of mingled apprehension and arousal. Steadying himself with hands laid lightly on Lacroix's broad shoulders, he lowered himself toward the man's lap. Lacroix guided him down, spreading Nicholas's buttocks with eager fingers. The blunt, iron hard tip of Lacroix's cock pressed against the tight ring of muscle and Lacroix brought his hands to rest, tremoring lightly, on Nicholas's thighs. His buttocks tensed as his body became rigid in the chair, but otherwise he didn't move, leaving it to Nicholas to impale himself. The younger vampire lowered himself slowly, sliding with surprising ease on Lacroix's honeyed flesh. As the taut ring clamped on the head of his cock, Lacroix's eyes rolled back. "Nicholassss," he moaned, hands clenching spasmodically on his lover's thighs. The younger vampire's characteristic half-grin quirked his lips, as he delighted in the power he had to control his master. Teasing, he lifted himself a bit, then slid down again, working himself slowly down the shaft in small steps, groaning and sighing as Lacroix filled him. The man trembled under him, eyes closed, lower lip caught between his teeth. Nicholas's gaze roved over his face, link to his lover as wide open as he could make it, avid to witness even the slightest effect he had on Lacroix. Panting, Nicholas finally rested completely on Lacroix's lap, containing the man's full length. Eyes closed, Lacroix reached an arm around the small of Nicholas's back, pulling him closer. He pressed cool lips against a nipple, then his tongue darted out to flick against it, as his other hand reached between them to firmly grasp Nicholas's cock. The younger vampire grunted, then slowly lifted himself up again, beginning his ride, the growing friction warming the lubricating honey, making it even more slick. Oh, this is good, so good, Nicholas thought, closing his own eyes, Lacroix's tongue and teeth on his puckering nipples and the man's hand skimming up and down his cock in the same rhythm that he impaled himself. The pressure of their ecstasy grew, surging through their bond, and the aching at the roots of his fangs grew almost unbearable. He let them descend and he opened his mouth, prepared to fall on Lacroix's throat as they climaxed. Suddenly, he found his shoulder and hair seized, his head twisted sharply to one side. Lacroix jerked him forward, sinking his teeth into his jugular, the bright pain shocking a yell from him. He struggled to turn his own head, to reach the other vampire, but brutal hands held him immobile as Lacroix drew out his life blood. Lacroix greedily gulped down the woman's blood, distilled now by Nicholas's body into a finer liquor, less sustaining, but far headier, laced as it was with his boy's fiery essence. Honey and wine, honey and wine burst across his tongue as the golden intoxicating fury of Nicholas exploded in his mind. He needed every iota of his control as, groaning with the effort, he restrained himself from spending his seed into Nicholas's body. Balanced on that peak just before the tumble into bliss, he drank as he would have from the mortal Liselle, his own heartbeat echoing the slow pounding rhythm of Nicholas's. Finally, replete, he pulled away. The boy, nearly drained, almost unconscious, slumped against him limply, his body so sweetly pliant. Lacroix cradled him, kissing lightly at the slowly healing wound in his throat. He savored the feel of his son's yielding flesh against his. The boy's hot-headed, stubborn nature made moments like this too rare, and with his own love of a challenge, this usually pleased him. This surrender of Nicholas's body forced a half-unwilling surrender in him as well, a melting that allowed a usually scorned tenderness to suffuse him. He turned his head to press his lips against Nicholas's; there was a ghost of a response. "Come, my boy," he murmured. "Your turn." Grasping Nicholas's hair, he pressed the boy's lips against his own throat. For a moment, as his son lay motionless, he thought he had perhaps taken too much and that he would have to force feed him. But then, with a growl, Nicholas struck like a viper, plunging his fangs into Lacroix's flesh. The older vampire cried out in pain and delight, his orgasm, sweetly fierce, startling him, and he quickly placed his mouth over his son's half-healed wound to share the bliss consuming him. Lacroix's climax triggered Nicholas's, exploding in his blood, and they groaned together as they yielded to ecstasy. Arms tight around each other, Lacroix supported Nicholas until his ancient blood revitalized his son. They slowly, reluctantly, removed their mouths from one another's flesh, the returning separation somehow painful. Lacroix cleared his throat. "I need a bath, Nicholas," he said a bit hoarsely. "So do you. Soap. Hot water. Perhaps a bit more ... play." Nicholas chuckled, still feeling a bit woozy. "You're insatiable, old man." "Only ... only for a select few, Nicholas. A very select few." FIN
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Most recent revision Friday, June 21, 1996