Trespassing
by Les GSWarning: explicit male/male sex (Nick/Lacroix). Nick stiff-armed the door to the men's room open, jarring himself up to the shoulder, sending a shock through his aching upper jaw. The door banged against the wall behind it then slowly swung shut again, its groan grating in his over-sensitive ears. His headlong flight came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the room, his reflection glaring at him from the mirror over the sinks. It had been a hellish night and its effects, his features drawn and strained, and - damn it all - hints of flame in the blue of his eyes, bared themselves to his fixed stare. He clenched his fists, nails biting his palms.
He wheeled away from his image, one hand coming up to his mouth, the back of it pressing hard against his lips. It did little to ease the sullen ache of his undescended fangs. He flicked a quick glance to the now closed door, then stepped forward into the center of the three stalls. He turned to close and latch its door behind him, and now, more secure, he did allow the sharp canines to drop. A sigh escaped from between his lips. He leaned forward, eyes closing, to rest his forehead against the cold metal of the door.
He didn't know how long he could stay in here. Of the two men's toilets on this floor of the precinct, this was the least convenient and the least visited. But someone was going to come in eventually. Just hopefully not before he got himself in hand again. He uttered something between a sigh and a growl. Allowing his teeth to descend gave him some physical relief, but it brought him one step closer to releasing the vampire. And that, given recent events, would be just too damned easy.
A week ago, he had been writhing in the grip of a demon, restrained on Vanderwal's table. He'd managed, with a great deal of help, to free himself of the demon itself, but not the lingering aftereffects of its possession. Nerves raw and abraded, his blood-lust had been stimulated to a pitch he hadn't felt in years. In the past, he would have appeased it with a kill. Maybe a few. Or found release in the body and blood of a vampire lover. Now, resisting the soothing effects even of bottled human blood, it had become a real struggle just to exist around mortals.
Then, tonight's only arrest had almost gone sour. The suspect had resisted, using his lover as a hostage, holding a knife to her throat. Nick had thought he was going to be able to talk the guy around, but he'd slipped up somewhere. When Nick managed to get the woman away from him, it had taken every scrap of will he had to push the sobbing, bleeding woman into Tracy's arms. He'd caught up with the suspect a few minutes later. If he had been a resister, Nick might now be talking with I.A. about unnecessary force.
The effects of that encounter clung to him, emotionally and literally. He couldn't shake an arousal twisted of anger and guilt-laced sexual excitement. The fist-sized splotch of blood in the center of his shirt, left by the woman who'd almost become his victim, only kept the arousal fresh. He could button his jacket and hide it from sight. But he couldn't hide the scent.
He'd pointed the Caddy at the precinct, wanting to get to the clean shirt he had stashed in his locker. But he was diverted by another call. At the crime scene Nick was confronted with more freshly spilled blood than he'd been required to deal with for a long time. The smell on the shirt became meaningless.
Watching Tracy try to cope with it had been hard. And harder still was that the dominant feeling he had felt at the scene hadn't been pity or horror. It had been... hunger. Fierce, sharp edged hunger. Tracy, needing to vent, had started up a non-stop one sided conversation. Back in the Caddy, Nick flicked on the radio. But there was a substitute deejay on Night Watch.
That, for some reason, had bothered him as much as anything else that evening. He'd put it down to being unable to distract Tracy - and himself - with Lacroix's soothing tones. With that voice which often seemed more a touch than a sound. He could have always turned the volume down so he didn't have to listen to the actual words. He'd begun considering the wisdom of booking off early, retreating to the loft. Or maybe going by the Raven first. That would at least be diverting.
He'd finally gotten to the precinct, but before he could duck into the locker room, Nat had found him. Wound tight by the evening's events, he'd been completely unprepared for any kind of reasonable conversation. This past week his inability to control his need for blood had torn at him, as he flayed himself for his weak will and for ruining whatever tests Nat was running. And he knew her unhappiness reached beyond a scientist's frustration with spoiled results, that her heart had become wrapped up in these failures... in his failures. So when Nat had looked up at him with an expression that verged on hurt and gently rested warm -oh, so warm- fingers on the back of his hand, he'd lost it. The impulse to hold and comfort took a violent twist into the urge to take, to consume. And he'd bolted for the men's room, knowing his eyes divulged that shift, Nat's startled "Nick!" ringing in his ears.
And he still hadn't been able to change his shirt, to escape that provoking fresh blood smell. He could strip it off here, but he wasn't sure how much that would help at this point. His hunger, tangled with a sullen, aching sexual arousal, had become dangerously insistent. He lifted his head, shifting his feet, turning restlessly in the small space, uneasy that he might have trapped himself with no safe way out. The precinct now seemed a labyrinth peopled with scores of all-too-vulnerable potential victims.
The outer door to the bathroom creaked open and Nick became perfectly still. The groaning of the door swinging shut should not have been enough to cover the sound of footsteps in Nick's hypersensitive ears. But he heard nothing. Brow furrowing, he slowly began to turn, head cocked to one side. There came the sudden whoosh of displaced air, the sense of something dropping from above, and the clatter of the stall's latch in its catch. Nick was pushed forward as the space behind him became occupied. His hands flew up to keep him from going face first into the wall at the back of the cubical and his shins barked against the toilet as he was forced forward. The hair on the back of his head was grabbed, clenched just before the point of pain, and a long, lean body pressed itself against his back. He had no question who it was.
"Surprise, surprise, Nicholas." Lacroix jerked Nick's head to one side to peer into the golden fire of his eye. "Or is it?"
Nick ignored the question, his body flexing under Lacroix's, testing to see how determined he was to keep a hold on him. That Lacroix didn't back off was a source both of dismay and of unwelcome comfort. Voice grating, he protested, "You can't be here."
"More to the point, should you be?" Lacroix asked in his politest tones. "Is it entirely... appropriate? In your current condition."
Nick felt his grip on his temper, already tenuous, slipping. Knowing it was a lie, he spat, "I'm fine. Let go."
"Are you then?" Lacroix murmured. "Tell me, Nicholas. Do you expect it all to just fade away? What are you going to do about your little problem? About this?" Staring into Nick's burning eye, fist still clenched in his hair, he shook the other's head slightly. "And this?" A hand snaked around Nick's flank to grip, for just an instant, the swollen bulge in the front of his jeans.
Nick sucked in a quick breath, his whole body clenching at the trespass. His outrage only increased with the sweet flare of heat in his groin.
"This is none of your business," he hissed. His muscles coiled, but he made no move to throw Lacroix off. That would get noisy. And he didn't want that, not here. "Release me. Get out."
Lacroix's hands abruptly left him as he took a half step back. "Shall I then?" he inquired softly. "Leave..?"
Nick sagged a bit, placing even more of his weight on his braced arms. Dismay swept though him at the sharp pang of loss he felt, bereft of the shocking yet familiar feel of Lacroix's hands upon him. Where his maker had gripped him, his scalp and aching groin, hummed with energy, the lingering imprint of his touch.
He took a shaky breath, trying to fight off his arousal, to quell his anger. Acutely conscious that Lacroix wasn't going anywhere until he answered his question, Nick opened his mouth to declare yes, he should go. But his throat tightened and the words simply would not come. Instead, he found himself shaking his head. No. No.
"No? You wish me to remain?" Lacroix queried softly.
Nick continued shaking his head. This was insanity; Lacroix in this place, in the precinct, in a bathroom anyone could walk into at any moment. But he found himself beyond caring, goaded past reason by his blood lust, so brutally revived under the demon's domination.
"What do you want, Nicholas?" Lacroix's voice came to his ears through a red haze, dark and supple, nearly tangible.
Blood. It hurt, how much he wanted it. His maker's blood, searing him from inside. Nick felt himself- not yielding, so much as accepting whatever consequences this encounter would bring. He wanted that release found in Lacroix's blood. And...
"Hands," Nick whispered, hoarse with tension. He cleared his throat, attempting to loosen it and tried again. "Your hands. Touch... touch me again."
There was a pause, then the faint sound of shifting cloth and leather. The hairs up Nick's spine rose, prickling, the sense of Lacroix so close behind him a pressure on his skin.
"Now?" Lacroix demanded. "Here?"
"Yes," Nick breathed. "Now."
Slowly, Lacroix's hand slid over his belly, rubbing in light circles over the taut muscles. "Like this?"
Nick's breath caught and he nodded.
"Here?" The flat of Lacroix's other palm stroked across his chest, then his fingers curved, their tips first stroking along the firm edge of Nick's pectorals through his shirt. Then they moved up to circle each nipple in turn. Closing his eyes and biting gently on his lower lip, Nick nodded again.
The hand on his tight stomach slid lower, to carefully cup his groin again. "And here?"
Nick's breath burst from him in a sharp gust as a shudder passed through him. The hands on him became still.
"You're sure?"
"Lacroix," Nick ground out through set teeth. "Do it now."
Lacroix chuckled softly, but his fingers already tugged at the buckle on Nick's belt, flicking it open, quickly moving on to the button and the zipper.
"As long as you're sure, Nicholas," he murmured. Then he eased his hand down the front of Nick's pants to cradle his testicles through his briefs. Nick pressed his hips forward, pumping into the pressure that cupped him. Lacroix's other hand slipped up his shirt to flick his thumb lightly over one nipple than the other. Nick could feel the clenching of the buds as they came erect, jolts of sharp pleasure shooting through his groin.
Then Lacroix stroked upward, fingernails sliding over the slick fabric of Nick's briefs, leaving trails of fire along the rigid shaft beneath. The younger vampire bit at his lip, fang tips pricking, then watched as Lacroix's hand turned to fit a thumb under the waistband of his underwear. He found himself abruptly peeled, his pants and shorts shoved down his thighs. He slid his feet further apart to catch them at his knees, then forgot all about his clothing as Lacroix's fist curled gently around his naked cock.
"Ahhh," he breathed, the sensation exquisite, a relief and a torment together. The delicate grip brought him no closer to release. But to have another's hand on him was sheer delight, the deftness of Lacroix's touch a promise of the ecstasy to come.
Lacroix ran his thumb over the head of Nick's cock, its tip emerging from under his taut foreskin. Slick now with the pre-seminal fluids oozing from its slit, the ring of Lacroix's finger and thumb skinned the shielding prepuce back, exposing Nick's glans completely. Nick shuddered as the slippery thumb circled the flushed, swollen head, the sensation an intense almost-burn. Then Lacroix's hand shifted, skimming smoothly down his rigid shaft, easing the stimulation.
Nick moaned. Fierce arousal and a fear of imminent discovery wound him tight with the need for haste, to finish this. But to be touched this way - savored, cherished - fed a hunger in him so very rarely sated. Lacroix's fingertips explored his scrotum, running lightly over the velvety fuzzed skin. Nick endured this delicate touch for a few long, breathless moments. Then he lifted one hand from the wall to reach behind him. Lacroix inhaled sharply as Nick cupped his groin, palm pressing against his trapped erection while his fingers fondled his testicles.
Nick looked back over his shoulder at the other vampire. "This too," he demanded.
Lust flickered golden in Lacroix's eyes, his tongue tip emerging to wet his lips before he responded in a low rasp. "That would be... a bit more involved. I thought haste was in order."
"So hurry," Nick hissed.
Lacroix snorted his amusement, then easing back a bit, brought his hand from Nick's chest to the fastenings of his pants. Nick kept his between them, curved over the rapid flexing of Lacroix's fingers. There came the sound of fabric sliding accompanied by the faint chime of the belt buckle. Then Lacroix's hand was gone and his erection, bone hard under velvet skin, pressed into Nick's palm. Closing his fingers around it, Nick squeezed firmly, once. It answered with a swelling pulse as Lacroix grunted softly. Then, releasing it, Nick placed his hand back up on the wall before him, leaning his ass into the groin behind him.
Lacroix's hips twitched forward - sheer reflex, Nick thought - jamming the long, hard shaft along the crevice of his butt cheeks. There was a short pause and Nick turned his head a bit to peer at the other vampire from the corner of one eye. Lacroix's first two fingers were in his mouth. He pulled them out, wet, glistening liquid red. A crimson trickle spilled over his lower lip, the feral scent of his blood filling the air. Nick's diaphragm clenched, wrenching a loud, rasping snarl from him. Lacroix's other hand let go of Nick's cock, snapping up to curl a large palm firmly over his mouth and nose, stifling any sound.
"Hush now, Nicholas," Lacroix murmured into his ear. "If you're going to be noisy, we'll have to stop."
Nick snarled again, very softly this time, nuzzling the muffling palm, redolent with the scent of his own pre-cum. He opened his lips, tongue sliding out to savor the taste of Lacroix's flesh and his own fluids mingled. He heard Lacroix's breath catch, then spit and blood slick fingers were pressing up between his buttocks, questing for and finding the opening to his body.
Their entry was swift though not rough, first one, then two, working with an intimate understanding of Nick's limits, his ability to open and adapt to them. He clamped his eyes shut, all attention focused on accommodating this welcome invasion. It didn't last long, just enough for the burn to ease a bit, then Lacroix withdrew his fingers, their slashes now healed.
"A moment," Lacroix murmured, then a fresh wave of blood-scent rolled over Nick; Lacroix biting into his palm, using that fluid and his spit to lubricate his own phallus.
Then Lacroix was gripping his hip with a blood-wet hand, holding him steady as the blunt head of his cock slipped along the path his fingers had taken. Nick moaned softly into his maker's palm, the thick knob pushing through his sphincter bringing pain and pleasure together.
Nick could suddenly breathe again as Lacroix's hand left his mouth. He did so, inhaling sharply as his maker's fingers wrapped again around his rigid penis. Opening his eyes, he watched them skim up and down the shaft, coaxing a bright heat from its root. Lacroix continued his slow, smooth penetration and Nick's breath left him in a long sigh. The delicious ache of his stretching anus fused with the sweetness coiling up his cock.
Then a different fire was kindled, a hot melting deep in his guts as Lacroix's swollen glans pressed firmly against his prostate. He bit down hard on his lower lip, fangs tips popping through his flesh as he struggled to keep silent. He closed his eyes again, his own blood flaring on his tongue. Craving even greater intensity, he rocked his hips to meet Lacroix, driving the other's cock deep into his bowels. His maker's low groan sent a sharp spike of peaking lust up his spine. Spurred on by Lacroix's response, he shoved back harder, until Lacroix's pelvic bones were digging into the meat of his buttocks. The ferocious pressure, the seldom felt firing of rectal nerves, shot bursts of electric energy up his spine. He shuddered violently, shaking his head wildly as his breath gusted from his nostrils.
"Nicholas." Lacroix's whisper, along with his hand sliding up from his hip to the center of his chest, over his heart, stilled him. Lacroix held them both motionless for a long moment, a quiet hand wrapped lightly around Nick's tumescent cock. Then his head dipped down, his teeth closing on Nick's earlobe, biting gently. Movement began again, Lacroix swinging his hips back, then forward, the start of a precise, deliberate thrusting. Nick, palms flat against the cool tile wall, locked his elbows and his knees to brace himself, then let his thoughts dissolve, losing himself in the sensations of Lacroix implacable within him, the hands on his cock and his chest, the lips now teasing beneath his ear. Flesh saturated with pleasure, his awareness flowed into that timeless space he found only under Lacroix's hands, Lacroix's mouth and body.
He was abruptly jerked from that place when Lacroix stopped, gripping Nick tightly. The thought that Lacroix must be, quite unexpectedly, on the verge of orgasm flitted through younger vampire's pleasure-dazed mind. But then he too heard the hollow creak of the bathroom door opening. A voice, very tentative, came from the entrance. Nat's voice.
"Nick..?"
Nick's eyes flew wide, a chilling shock of alarm shooting through him.
"Nick?" He could hear her take a couple tiny steps forward and the squeak of the widening door.
Then Lacroix's hand lifted from Nick's mouth, as he, sotto voce, murmured in his ear, "Shall we ask her to join us, Nicholas?"
Nick struggled for coherence, the idea of Nat and Lacroix in the same place sending his thoughts skittering. He took a deep breath and, with great effort, retracted his fangs before speaking. Then he cleared his throat.
"Nick?" came Nat's inquiry again, more intent this time, along with another step, less hesitant than the last.
"Don't come in, Nat," Nick managed, voice thick. Her advance ceased. Much to Nick's relief, Lacroix's sigh of mock-disappointment was pitched only for his ears.
But while Nat ventured no further in, nor did she retreat. Her low voice, edged with discomfort, sounded from where she stood in the entrance. "I talked to Tracy, Nick. Are you all right?"
Apparently, Lacroix found this all highly amusing. The tiny spasms Nick felt shaking the torso pressed against his back could only be fiercely suppressed laughter.
Nick swallowed heavily, then, feeling beleaguered from two sides, growled out, "I will be in a minute." Lacroix's fist, still wrapped around Nick's cock, gently squeezed and released, squeezed and released. Nick closed his eyes again at the flares of pleasure pulsing through him, but his voice quavered only slightly as he continued, "Maybe less."
The shaking against his back only increased. This also did some rather interesting things to the rigid shaft that was still planted deep within his body. His braced arms and legs quivered with the effort it took to keep his aroused beast in check, a soft gasp escaping his lips.
"Are you sure, Nick?" Her near-whisper tight with worry, she carefully offered, "If you need help getting home..."
Guilt, wretched and cloying, washed over him. The concern with which she spoke stabbed at him. Yet again he had fled into that part of his life in which she had no place, finding relief for the stress of a vampire in a mortal's life in a way she could only see as a betrayal. Of her and of the life he yearned for.
The hot flare of resentment he felt at her intrusion at this particular moment didn't help.
The laughter shaking against his back suddenly ceased. Lacroix's breath gusted against the nape of his neck in a long, silent sigh. Nick ground his molars. Even as that airy caress wrenched at his self-control, he sensed, vaguely, the strain made on Lacroix's patience. Unease rolled through his guts, as the memory of the other time Lacroix's anger had spilled over on Nat stirred. Apprehension tensed his body beneath Lacroix's, his beast sniffing the possibility of battle. His maker, though, remained quiet and unmoving, and he found himself in a pool of thick silence. After a long moment, he collected himself, forcing the next words out.
"I need... a little more time, Nat. I'll be fine, but... I need the time."
There followed a long pause. Then Nat spoke again.
"Okay, Nick. But... call me, all right? Just... call me. I'll be at the morgue, then home."
"As soon as I can, Nat."
Both vampires listened intently as she stepped back, letting the door groan closed behind her. Motionless, they stood in the quiet left by the mortal's departure. Then Lacroix loosened the tight grip he had wrapped around Nick, pulling away from him. A series of shocks ran through Nick. The first, the sudden loss of all physical contact, left him agonizingly aroused. Amazement that Lacroix would withdraw without completion, from him and from the whole encounter, quickly followed. The most stunning, though, came from the chilling sense of abandonment that stirred in him.
"No," he hissed through fangs that jutted abruptly again into his mouth. He whipped one arm around, fist suddenly clenched in the small of Lacroix's back as he pulled his maker against him, the other's unflagging erection slippery along the crevice of Nick's ass.
"Stop, Nicholas." Lacroix's voice held a dangerous rasp. "I've lost interest."
"You can't," Nick growled. "You can't leave me like this." Attending a long neglected connection, he sensed the flaring of Lacroix's deathless pride.
"I... can't?"
Nick shoved the aching hunger of his unsated lust down that freshly sensitized link. Lacroix stiffened behind him under the sudden influx of erotic energy, his own desire echoing piercingly in Nick's brain. But still he drew away a step despite Nick's restraining arm, the stall's lock clattering as he bumped the door behind him.
Nick pushed away from the wall behind the toilet, straightening, fists clenching at his sides. "I can't leave here yet." Every need thwarted, his hunger tore at him, animal rage threatening to overwhelm him. "Not like this."
Lacroix's belt buckle chimed softly as he dealt with his trousers. Voice flat, almost bored, he replied, "We've had this discussion before, Nicholas. The risks of living a mortal's life, et cetera."
Nick pivoted, his own pants still around his knees, risking explosive retaliation by gripping Lacroix's wrists hard, restraining his hands. He stared into his maker's pale eyes, well aware of the outrage building behind the set mask of his face. Undaunted, he urged softly, "Finish this, Lacroix. I want you... to finish this."
"You finish it." Lacroix's upper lip curled as he jerked his wrists from Nick's grasp. The younger vampire rocked back a bit, keeping his balance with unconscious grace, awareness focused on other things. Lacroix's breath carried the scent of his blood as well as his words and Nick fought hard for self-control as lust tangled with fury at being denied again. Fingernails scoring his palms, he carefully enunciated his next words around razored fangs.
"I want what you do."
Lacroix stared at him a moment, hands on his belt again, though they were quite still. Then he ground out, "I don't want a bellyful of your guilt, Nicholas."
"Lacroix." Nick reached out again, resting his fingertips lightly on the silk of his maker's cuffs. He bared his fangs in something like a grin, daring. A dark exaltation filled him, the beast surging beneath his control like a half-tamed stallion, submitting to his reins and spurs but only just. "No guilt. Not now."
Lacroix's eyes roved over Nick's face intently, though his voice was cold as he inquired, "And tomorrow?"
Nick leaned in closer to the other vampire in the scant space, fingers gliding over the slick, cool fabric to tighten again on Lacroix's wrists. "Today, Lacroix. Now." Mouth quirking into a small smile, he continued softly, "Tell me you were thinking about 'tomorrow' when you came in here."
Lacroix's brows rose, surprise flitting quickly across his features before being replaced by sardonic amusement. "What, Nicholas? Do you accuse me of spontaneity?"
Nick's fingers slid from Lacroix's wrists to his half-done belt buckle. "No accusations." Slipping the supple leather strap from the metal hasp, he continued, "No... second thoughts."
Lacroix's head tilted slightly to one side, dark humor fading from his face. "Really."
He lifted one hand to Nick's shoulder, doing nothing to prevent his pants, freed by Nick's actions, from sliding down his thighs. Pushing back gently, firmly, on Nick's shoulder, Lacroix silently signaled he should turn again. Nick did, a prickle of mingled arousal and apprehension running across the skin of his bare buttocks and up his spine.
Behind him, Lacroix continued, soft and sibilant through descended canines, "How... trusting."
The jolt of alarm Nick felt at the hint of menace in Lacroix's tone evaporated almost immediately as fresh blood-scent invaded his sinuses. A savage lust rekindled in him, the sweet flare in his groin echoed by an aching pulse in his fangs. A broad hand was set between his shoulder blades, pressing him forward, until his own lifted hands came to rest on the cool wall tiles. Lacroix reached around his hip, taking his stiffening cock up again, thick red oozing from a palm doubly scored by fang tips.
Lacroix's penis, freshly slick with his own blood, slid once more between Nick's buttocks, its head nudging against his anus. Nick let out a long breath as it pressed on, shoving steadily through his sphincter. That burn melted together with the surging delight Lacroix's light, slippery grip stroked from his cock. Then Lacroix's other hand settled on his hip again, fingertips dimpling flesh with almost bruising force, and Nick readied himself, muscles in his arms and legs bunching.
An eruption of sensation; Lacroix rammed into him, hammering deliberately against his prostate as his hand flew with merciless efficiency along his rigid shaft. Nick's strangled howl was caught in the hand clamped suddenly over his mouth. Lacroix breath rasped in his ear, a harsh gasp with every thrust. Pleasure exploded in every nerve, a burst of piercing ice and flame together jetting up his spine. Lucent bliss streamed through his limbs, then light flared behind his eyes. Blind, he became every pulse of ecstasy as he spurted between Lacroix's ruthless fingers.
Then the beast arose, demanding its due, and he bit down, fangs tearing into the flesh offered them. Power bloomed in his mouth, dark and potent, searing down his throat, into his belly and from there slicing through his veins. That savage pleasure coiled through him, attained only when his and his maker's blood twisted together in his body. A lacerating bliss, to be so dangerously desired, to know in every nerve Lacroix's undying joy in devouring him utterly. He lusted for Lacroix's bite, to spill into him, to penetrate to his maker's core as the other pervaded him.
Ecstasy tumbled through him again, Lacroix's orgasm, ripping through him along their bond and through the blood now mingling with his own. Twin spikes of craved agony stabbed under his ear. Freed, he flowed into Lacroix's mouth, his maker's moan echoing in his mind.
A flash of mutual stunning exultation, an instant of profound desires utterly sated... then Lacroix was pulling away, body and mind, shattering that peace. Nick groaned his protest. Jaws clamping tighter, fangs deep in the meat at the edge of Lacroix's hand, he drew a soft hiss from the other vampire.
Lacroix's free hand lifted, fingers and palm still wet with blood and ejaculate, coming to rest over Nick's heart. Drawing Nick up to stand on shaky legs, he murmured hoarsely in the ear beside his lips.
"Enough, Nicholas."
Nick sucked in a deep breath through his nose, then opened his mouth, releasing Lacroix's hand. A second arm wrapped around him, pulling him tighter against Lacroix's chest, a cool cheek resting against his for a moment. He reached out, setting his palms on the metal walls of the stall to either side, stiffening his knees. Lacroix's embrace loosened, his fingers stroking across Nick's chest and down his sides before they were gone. Licking his lips, swallowing hard, he held himself steady, listening to the rustle of cloth, the rasp of a zipper, the slither of leather, as Lacroix secured his trousers. Surges of delicious aftershock rolled over him, the swelling of his cock ebbing, his sphincter pulsing pleasurably as it tightened again. Floating in a pool of calm, he felt purged, free of the needs knotting him tight earlier.
The rattle of the toilet paper roll spinning on its holder roused him, and he reached down, taking the wad of tissue wiping over his sticky hip from Lacroix's hand.
"I can do it," he muttered.
"Yes," Lacroix replied. "I'm going to the sink, Nicholas, to tidy up."
The breeze as he lifted from the stall cooled Nick's thighs and buttocks. Still a bit hazy, he dabbed at the tacky mess at his hip and groin for a moment before deciding a hot shower was really in order. He dropped the tissue in the toilet, noting that Lacroix had managed to aim his ejaculation fairly accurately. After he slid his briefs and pants up, he leaned forward, a bit rocky still, and flushed, the pinkish water swirling away.
Leaving the stall in the more usual way, he joined Lacroix, feeling loose jointed and supple, at ease in his own skin. Bending over the sink, he cast a number of quick sideways glances at the door as he rinsed his face in cold water. He could feel Lacroix's eyes on him. More, he could feel him still running through his veins, faint echoes of a voice he could perhaps understand if he made enough of an effort.
Straightening, he lifted his gaze to the mirror, meeting Lacroix's eyes there. He expected a smug smile, that triumph Lacroix exhibited whenever Nick indulged in his more... primal instincts. He was relieved and a bit puzzled to find no more than curiosity in Lacroix's lifted brows and slight smile. He thought, under that cool poise, he detected a certain watchfulness. He wasn't sure what Lacroix was watching for. And he wasn't sure he wanted to press him to find out.
He plucked a paper towel from the dispenser, wiping his face with it.
"There," Lacroix said, pointing to the side of Nick's throat. Nick turned his head, finding in the mirror the thin trail of blood running from under his ear to his collar. He wiped at it with the damp towel, grimacing at the harshness of the paper and in annoyance at the additional stain to his shirt. Though, looking down at the center of his chest, it was fairly minor compared to the splotch there, the original of which was now overlaid with a blurred image of a large reddish hand print. Nick grimaced slightly at the sight.
"White is simply not our color, Nicholas," Lacroix noted, shooting the cuffs on his black silk shirt before beginning to button his jacket. Nick cocked an eyebrow in Lacroix's direction. He waited a moment, but apparently the man had nothing more to say. That was it? A comment on sartorial choices?
"I have another shirt in my locker."
"Best go change then. I'll wait here a few moments after you've left." Lacroix's lips bent in a droll curl as he began to button his leather greatcoat. "For discretion's sake."
Nick nodded and started for the exit. Then, with his hand on the door handle, he stopped, turning back to look again at Lacroix. He said, "I wasn't."
Lacroix's brows rose, slightly quizzical. Slowly, he replied, "You weren't..." Then the corners of his eyes crinkled as his smile reached them as well.
"Surprised," Nick continued, responding at last to the question Lacroix had posed upon his arrival. "When you showed up."
Lacroix shaped his face into an expression of mild distress. "I've become predictable. How dull."
Nick looked at his maker, searching those features opaque to him still after centuries, even with Lacroix's touch lingering in his blood, on his body. He said quietly, "I didn't expect you. But your turning up wasn't a surprise." Then, a grin slanting across his face, he went on, "Nor dull."
With a wicked smile, Lacroix tucked his hands into the pockets of his coat and drawled, "Imagine my relief."
Still grinning, Nick swung the door open, stepping into the hallway as the door groaned shut behind him. He made his way toward the locker room, stride fluid. His thoughts ran ahead of him, as he decided to go find Nat in the morgue after he changed his shirt. It had been a while since they'd been able to spend time together. He'd been too on edge to be good, or safe, company. But not now. And maybe she'd like to come over after her shift and unwind with a video and popcorn. She could probably use a chance to relax herself.
FIN
Credits:
- Content -- LoosCanN
- Most excellent editing -- Kathy Whelton and Julia Kocich
This page was created Wednesday January 5th, 2000
Most recent revision Wednesday January 5th, 2000