He’s not thinking about it at all. The only thing on his mind is how good he feels, how amazing it is to be filled so perfectly, every inch feeling like it was made especially for him.
Ethan whimpers, gripping his husband, arching up into him with a groan.
"I was," he answers, hips finding rhythm. Ethan's energy is so wonderfully unique. Soft but not without strength. Hard but not without gentleness. He likes that Ethan expresses himself. He likes the transparency. The simplicity. You are such a gem.
Ethan is so good. God what has he been doing rolling around with half soulmates all these years.
Waiting for this one, maybe.
Maybe maybe maybe. Is it too soon to tell?
But since when has Francis given any patience to a situation like this. He simply doesn't have it. When he finds something beautiful he goes for it, both feet.
"It's been you I've been waiting for all this time."
He is very, very tired to kicking to tread water these days. Exhausted and bitter and lonely. He doesn't want to be beoken anymore.
"I'm hopeless that way." A gentle warning but is it really that bad? For him..probably. And yet.
The squeeze sends a whole new shiver through him, purr low in his chest. Animalistic and raw. Powerful muscles working, weight on one elbow, his opposite hand tangling in Ethan's hair. He nips at his husband's earlobe before working his way down that pretty neck, pressing his teeth in. Not to break skin, never to break skin, but in claim. You're his. You're his, you're his, you're his.
Take their time workin up to it but between the venom, Ethan's beautiful words and exquisite body, and the claim rolling around in Francis' head he spills with a cry and a shiver, pinning into his mate to fill him to the brim.
“You’re beautiful,” he says breathlessly in answer. Hopeless romantic is Ethan’s middle name. One of them, anyway - sentimental and loyal are others that go hand in hand with his gooey insides. He’s committed now - and once he commits, that’s it. You’ve got him.
Until you change your mind, of course. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.
He tips his head with a whine, shivering as he’s claimed, the promise so loud in Francis’s head it may just be echoing in Ethan’s. Yours. Yours, yours, yours.
When Francis comes Ethan does again as well, a little surprised as he splatters between them, but he doesn’t dwell. It’s mind blowing, being so full, so swollen with seed because Francis seems to come a lot.
He sucks on Francis’ lower lip, letting flat teeth drag over it before letting go and sighing happily. Goddamn, he is spent.
“I am happy,” he says honestly, dizzy and comfortably, enjoying those hands smoothing over his skin. He’s too blitzed to really realize just how swollen he is - he just knows he feels fucking incredible. Like a million bucks. Just keep touching him, feeding the positive. He’s easily, easily trained.
Oh he will, hands soft but sure. Praising him with every movement.
"You are so very beautiful, Ethan," Francis murmurs, still buried deep. He couldn't stop himself touching if he tried.
"You looks incredible like this. Exactly where you belong. Like Eros himself."
It makes him want to drape his husband in silk and fur and jewels and spoil him absolutely rotten. Bring him to bliss and keep him there for the rest of his life.
He smiles, brilliant and warm, resting a hand against his hip.
“Eros, huh?”
He’d let you. He’d let you do anything, really. Drape him in silks, sat on a lounger, belly swollen and fat with your seed, open and exposed, naked save for the gown.
"Hardly. The god of love and beauty, reduced through the years through the gaze of the church. But make no mistake, he was very much an equal to Aphrodite."
"Why thank you~" he chuckles and slowly, slowly pulls out to come and curl against Ethan's side. He fits perfectly, never one taking his hand back.
This is so lovely. Touching and playing and basking in their lovely afterglow of fantastic, intimate sex.
He likes the immediate ease of their relationship. That they seem, on a fundamental level, extremely compatible. Oh darling he is going to spoil you. Rise you up on his shoulders.
There's still time before sunset which means a few more rounds may be possible. Francis can't keep his hands off. He's certainly going to try for it before reluctantly letting Ethan out of the bed for a shower and fresh clothes to then show him around the club.
Ethan will let him, absolutely. He just...he can't believe it. What are the
odds this actually worked out?
He won't spend time counting them, that's for sure. Just thanking his lucky
stars it's tied together so nicely. A normal person would probably be
suspicious, but man...Ethan is just gonna roll with it.
And he's excited to show Francis the club. It's certainly not a dive,
though it's hidden in plain sight and sort of looks like one from the
outside. Nox is well known in the vampire world, and humans who sign
waivers do trickle through the doors. He tries to keep it as legit as he
can.
It's quite charming, really. Francis on his arm as they go in and look around. He can feel how much effort Ethan puts into the whole operation.
The pleasant ambiance. The well stocked bar. The careful eye of security watching over the safety of their patrons.
He also knows he can elevate Nox to the next level simply by being attached. Tonight is not the night for looking through the books and paperwork but all in good time.
He'll introduce him to his favorite bartender, Cerai. He's not...sure what
she is, exactly - she's not human, she's not vampire, but she holds her own
against everyone in here.
"I've seen her throw a fully grown vampire out into the street," he's
saying quietly as they approach. "Don't piss her off, man."
She's tiny. Pixie like cut, pastel purple hair, bold eyeshadow, sparkling
blue eyes that stare into the soul.Five nothing, if that. Maybe 4'11', on a
good day. She sticks a hand out to meet Francis, chipper, but ultimately
suspect.
"Cerai," she says, shaking his hand before getting back to bar prep. "I've
heard all about this arranged thing." And she isn't convinced it was a good
idea for Ethan, because he is precious and sweet and she immediately
doesn't like you. It's nothing personal.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He groans a little, groping for him and shifting underneath him, hooking a leg around. Cmere. Slide home. He’s loose and easy.
“Uh huh,” he breathes, pushing fingers to twist in soft hair. “Right here.”
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Francis smiles and does exactly that, pressing himself against before nudging in. Already slicked. Don't think about it too hard.
Moaning nice and deep as he sinks home, capturing Ethan's lips before biting the bottom one and scraping his teeth along it.
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He’s not thinking about it at all. The only thing on his mind is how good he feels, how amazing it is to be filled so perfectly, every inch feeling like it was made especially for him.
Ethan whimpers, gripping his husband, arching up into him with a groan.
“You feel incredible. Like you were made for me.”
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"I feel the same way about you."
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You’ve gotten very lucky in this one. Don’t fuck it up.
“Oh good,” he says, relieved as he rolls his hips up to meet Francis’. “I’d hate it if you didn’t.”
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Ethan is so good. God what has he been doing rolling around with half soulmates all these years.
Waiting for this one, maybe.
Maybe maybe maybe. Is it too soon to tell?
But since when has Francis given any patience to a situation like this. He simply doesn't have it. When he finds something beautiful he goes for it, both feet.
"It's been you I've been waiting for all this time."
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One day you’ll drown, pretty dragon.
Or maybe you won’t - maybe you’ll have a vampire to haul you back up when the water threatens to crash over your head.
“That’s romantic,” he pants, squeezing muscles around that perfect cock. “I love it.”
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"I'm hopeless that way." A gentle warning but is it really that bad? For him..probably. And yet.
The squeeze sends a whole new shiver through him, purr low in his chest. Animalistic and raw. Powerful muscles working, weight on one elbow, his opposite hand tangling in Ethan's hair. He nips at his husband's earlobe before working his way down that pretty neck, pressing his teeth in. Not to break skin, never to break skin, but in claim. You're his. You're his, you're his, you're his.
Take their time workin up to it but between the venom, Ethan's beautiful words and exquisite body, and the claim rolling around in Francis' head he spills with a cry and a shiver, pinning into his mate to fill him to the brim.
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Until you change your mind, of course. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.
He tips his head with a whine, shivering as he’s claimed, the promise so loud in Francis’s head it may just be echoing in Ethan’s. Yours. Yours, yours, yours.
When Francis comes Ethan does again as well, a little surprised as he splatters between them, but he doesn’t dwell. It’s mind blowing, being so full, so swollen with seed because Francis seems to come a lot.
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Francis lays against him with glee, loving that Ethan's come again. Panting for a moment, he collects himself before nosing for more kisses.
"You're beautiful," he murmurs back.
Ooft, yeah he's done for. Raleigh who. Thank you Marcus, finally your dumb ass has done something right. Even posthumously.
"I want to make you happy."
Slowly, slowly pushing himself back up onto his knees, dragging his hands down Ethan's chest and ribs and belly. Reverent. Worshiping.
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He sucks on Francis’ lower lip, letting flat teeth drag over it before letting go and sighing happily. Goddamn, he is spent.
“I am happy,” he says honestly, dizzy and comfortably, enjoying those hands smoothing over his skin. He’s too blitzed to really realize just how swollen he is - he just knows he feels fucking incredible. Like a million bucks. Just keep touching him, feeding the positive. He’s easily, easily trained.
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"You are so very beautiful, Ethan," Francis murmurs, still buried deep. He couldn't stop himself touching if he tried.
"You looks incredible like this. Exactly where you belong. Like Eros himself."
It makes him want to drape his husband in silk and fur and jewels and spoil him absolutely rotten. Bring him to bliss and keep him there for the rest of his life.
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He smiles, brilliant and warm, resting a hand against his hip.
“Eros, huh?”
He’d let you. He’d let you do anything, really. Drape him in silks, sat on a lounger, belly swollen and fat with your seed, open and exposed, naked save for the gown.
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"Mhm~" smile widening as his hands move over that beautiful swell. Cheesy? Yes. Is he sorry? No.
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Play those cards right, and it’ll be all yours. Ethan would be happy to be pampered. He’d let you take care of him forever.
“Wasn’t he the little fat one with arrows?”
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"Hardly. The god of love and beauty, reduced through the years through the gaze of the church. But make no mistake, he was very much an equal to Aphrodite."
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He grins, reaching to catch one of those hands to kiss.
“You’d know, because you were probably there.”
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"And I'll say that I look rather elegant in a chiton."
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“That like a toga?”
Don’t mind him pressing messy kisses to his wrist. You smell so fucking good.
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He just doesn't want to pull out just yet.
"It is. But shorter. Shows off the legs~"
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You smell delicious. Thankfully he isn’t hungry.
“And yours are very nice.” Shifting a little under him so he can grope at his thigh.
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This is so lovely. Touching and playing and basking in their lovely afterglow of fantastic, intimate sex.
He likes the immediate ease of their relationship. That they seem, on a fundamental level, extremely compatible. Oh darling he is going to spoil you. Rise you up on his shoulders.
There's still time before sunset which means a few more rounds may be possible. Francis can't keep his hands off. He's certainly going to try for it before reluctantly letting Ethan out of the bed for a shower and fresh clothes to then show him around the club.
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Ethan will let him, absolutely. He just...he can't believe it. What are the odds this actually worked out?
He won't spend time counting them, that's for sure. Just thanking his lucky stars it's tied together so nicely. A normal person would probably be suspicious, but man...Ethan is just gonna roll with it.
And he's excited to show Francis the club. It's certainly not a dive, though it's hidden in plain sight and sort of looks like one from the outside. Nox is well known in the vampire world, and humans who sign waivers do trickle through the doors. He tries to keep it as legit as he can.
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The pleasant ambiance. The well stocked bar. The careful eye of security watching over the safety of their patrons.
He also knows he can elevate Nox to the next level simply by being attached. Tonight is not the night for looking through the books and paperwork but all in good time.
Captivate him, Mr. Crowne.
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He'll introduce him to his favorite bartender, Cerai. He's not...sure what she is, exactly - she's not human, she's not vampire, but she holds her own against everyone in here.
"I've seen her throw a fully grown vampire out into the street," he's saying quietly as they approach. "Don't piss her off, man."
She's tiny. Pixie like cut, pastel purple hair, bold eyeshadow, sparkling blue eyes that stare into the soul.Five nothing, if that. Maybe 4'11', on a good day. She sticks a hand out to meet Francis, chipper, but ultimately suspect.
"Cerai," she says, shaking his hand before getting back to bar prep. "I've heard all about this arranged thing." And she isn't convinced it was a good idea for Ethan, because he is precious and sweet and she immediately doesn't like you. It's nothing personal.
Ethan coughs. Jesus...be nice, please.
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