Cleaning Lady
Pairing: Eric/Talbot and a small hint of past Eric/Godric.
Warnings: Bottom!Eric
Author's Notes: Eric knows that Russell's wolves killed his family, but I skipped over the crown scene. Let's just pretend that happened earlier, and it'll all be okay.
Cleaning Lady
by Xernes
He watches as Eric studies his ancient Japanese vampire erotica—one of his finer items. Eric is so unlike old Russell: his husband relies on others to do his bidding and is very much a grumpy man. Russell never seems to care much about Talbot anymore; his mind is full with vampire politics nowadays. Eric, on the other hand, is a proud and rightly feared vampire; he is quite a cynosure. Eric's eloquence confirms that he possesses a plethora of experiences and memories that he's attained over his thousand years of existence. Talbot thirsts to learn all his secrets; Eric is the exact kind of man that brings out the strumpet in him.
"What is this?" Eric finally asks with a wide smile. His hands lightly hold up the parchment scroll as if he knows how many millions it is worth.
Talbot's eyes the length of Eric's frame hungrily. "Japanese vampire erotica—from the sixteenth century," Talbot tells him with a curious grin. Eric's knit shirt is on his body like a second skin—so tight that it hugs his muscles earnestly. "Exquisite detail," he adds, and he's not too sure if he is still talking about the art, or Eric's chiseled chest. Perhaps both.
Eric's eyebrows arch as he nods. "Learn any new tricks?"
"Eric," his name is a laugh on Talbot's lips. "You know as well as I—there's nothing new except someone new." Talbot's comment grants a laugh from Eric, who is smiling as if he's a boy again.
"Speak for yourself," Eric say sarcastically as he rolls up the scroll. "There is always something new when it comes to sex."
Talbot is suddenly intrigued; he cannot help it. "Really?" he asks in a low voice as he takes one step closer to Eric. "Well," he starts to admit, taking another step. "There was one thing I learned from it." One more step, and he inhales the faint scent of metal on Eric's tongue from the blood martini earlier.
"Tell me?" Eric asks with a tiny wink as he runs his fingertips lightly over Talbot's ornate rust-colored jacket. It is not a touch he means, but one he can easily make believable.
The touch is enough for Talbot to forget all about his dear Russell.
Only Eric exists now.
"How about I just show you?" Talbot offers.
Eric pauses, not answering right away. He knew coming into the king's mansion that there was a possibility it would come down to this, whether it was with Talbot or Russell—how could it not when both men crave the company of others? And Eric promised himself that he would agree to whatever Talbot or Russell asked, so that maybe he will finally get his vengeance. He smiles seductively, and gazes into Talbot's eyes as if they already are lovers. "I would like that."
He is good at pretending. He's had centuries of practice.
Talbot snakes his hand around Eric's neck and pulls him close. Eric is helpless to resist, and he wills his fangs to extend down. Talbot is delighted to see Eric's fangs—larger than his own—and he presses his fingertips against them before capturing his lips.
Eric opens his mouth for Talbot's tongue. Talbot's mouth has known so much blood that Eric can almost feed off his kiss. Fangs that Talbot does not put to use very often (probably do to all the blood martinis, blood sorbet, blood bisque) grazes gently across his tongue, and Eric is lost at his taste. He is instantly reminded of Godric. He remembers when he was young, and how Godric would suck up a mouthful of blood from the neck of a dying human, press his lips hard against Eric's, and release the blood into his mouth. It drove Eric wild—tasting the blood of humans so vividly on Godric's tongue—he preferred it to feeding off humans himself.
But Eric cannot think of Godric. Not now. Not with Talbot.
Talbot pushes Eric down to lay on his elegant mahogany dining table. He never lets just anyone near it, but Eric is remarkably different. Something about Eric makes Talbot forget about everything: all of his rules, all of his restrictions, all of his no-I-better-not-I'm-a-respectable-married-vampire bullshit excuses. He cannot stop kissing Eric, cannot stop his tongue from thrusting into his mouth greedily and licking his fangs, cannot stop the low moan that escapes his lips when Eric's arms reach around his waist and squeeze his buttocks.
It's been so very long since he was able to marvel in the earnest touch of another man.
Shrewd hands lift up Eric's knit shirt and he pulls it off. Eric's body is more glorious than Talbot thought it'd be. His chest is toned, soft, and cold as ice. When his elegant hands dance across Eric's skin, he cannot help but react. Eric's back arches wantonly at his perfect touch, and he pushes his chest up against Talbot's curious hands.
His warm mouth is all over Eric's cold skin—Talbot's tongue urges him to relax, his fangs tickle his skin and worries his tender nipples. Eric's skin is taut, like a ripe plum, and just as delicious.
Eric brings a hand up to Talbot's head and twists his finger around his soft curls. When he feels Talbot's arousal bump up against his thigh, Eric pulls down on the dark strand of hair in his hand and hisses.
Talbot whispers, "Be gentle." His voice is like sweet poison.
In one quick moment, Eric is naked on the table—laying, waiting, as if he is a lavish feast for Talbot to enjoy. Talbot unbuckles his pants and shoves them down just enough to release his hard cock.
While Talbot might be a dainty, delicate sort of vampire—where it matters most, he is robust and manly.
Eric finally understands why Russell wants Talbot all to himself, even after seven hundred years.
He opens his thighs around Talbot's hips. His body is cold against Eric's, save for his arousal that produces a dull heat. When Talbot pushes into him, Eric can't help but hiss, his mouth is wide as his fangs shine in the dim light of the opulent room. He feels like he is on fire. Talbot presses his hungry mouth against Eric's neck and repeatedly teases to break his skin and drink his blood, but each time his fangs touch his skin almost enough to pierce, he pulls back.
Eric feels different than Russell; he is taut, his skin soft, and his thighs actually tremble around Talbot's waist. He is no stranger to cock, of course, but it's been years since he was last with a man. Talbot thrusts into him swiftly, glad that he is breaking Eric's dry spell.
He is so deep inside of Eric, so hard for him—Eric feels like he might break in two.
"You ready?" Talbot whispers in Eric's ear as he presses forward tirelessly, pushing up and filling Eric.
And Eric cannot give him an answer. He cannot even speak. All he can do is moan and claw at Talbot's skin for more contact.
His reaction is more satisfying than any phrase.
Talbot's whole body stills, then shakes and goes limp, save for his cock. It is as if his bones melted into his insides, and all that's left is his blood and skin. He is as limber as clay. Talbot flattens his body against Eric's, capturing his lips again in a messy kiss before his body bends in a way that ought to be impossible.
With Talbot still deep inside of him, thrusting intently, Eric feels a warm mouth suck in his cock. Talbot's tongue is sharp and deft—swirling around and lapping up Eric's taste as his fangs gently run down his shaft.
It isn't long until Eric's hips buck up, either wanting more of Talbot's mouth or cock—he isn't sure. He is panting heavily for breath he's not required many years, small moans escaping his open mouth as his body writhes. Talbot pulls his mouth back, gives one clever lick, and Eric's fingernails dig deep into Talbot's skin as he comes hard; his fluid spilling out in hot splashes onto his stomach.
Talbot's bones reformat in his body and harden back into their place. He drives into Eric deeper, harder, grinding against him as low grunts work their way up his throat. His orgasm builds—he feels it all over his body: in the pit of his stomach, his thighs and legs, in his pelvis and balls. Talbot's fangs find Eric's chest and he sinks his teeth into his skin, sucking up his rich, ancient blood as he releases hot strings of semen violently inside of him.
The puncture marks on Eric's skin are already healing as Talbot pulls out. Eric moves to grab a handkerchief from his pants pocket to wipe away the mess on his abdomen, but Talbot slaps his hand away.
"Not so fast." Talbot's voice is hoarse and almost feral. He brings his head down to Eric's stomach and laps up his fluid with his tongue, still red from Eric's blood.
Franklin Mott said he was the cleaning lady earlier tonight.
And Talbot thinks that maybe Franklin is right.
-fin