5
Take a bite of my heart tonight (that's what makes you sexy to me)
Athanase squeaks as he lands on the couch and immediately rolls off it - or attempts to - because August is having none of that. Grabs him by his finely boned ankle and hauls him back across the surface of it, has him pinned down in the next heartbeat, fingers digging into the wiry muscles of shoulders. There's a pause, a soft mingling of air as Athanase exhales and August inhales. He can taste the sea salt on that breath, the faint traces of nicotine, the reminder of just how close they'd come to dying and then there are lips on his.
There is no time for finesse and exploration, only the burning heat of desperate desire and sheer need. If he stops to think about it, he'll feel the noose around his neck again, see the sunlight glinting off metal as he stares his demise in the face. Thinking, August decides is overrated, especially when he can kiss Athanase breathless instead. Shoves his hand under the thin shirt, fingers finding a pert nipple and fondling it immediately. Athanase squeaks again, gasping a curse into August's mouth, and he swallows down the stale air.
It's easier to focus when he can see Athanase's chest rising and falling under his hands. Eye sweeping over the pinkness of it, taking note of the ever-visible ribs - but now that he knows the reason behind their existence, he finds his fears lessened slightly. Digs his fingers into a bony hip, hard enough to bruise, and drags him closer, slotting himself roughly between narrow thighs. Ruts there for a moment, unable to do anything else with the hunger still pulsing in his veins.
"Arms up," August says and waits only long enough for the pirate to comply before he's binding his wrists in ribbon and lowering them back against the arm rest. "No getting off, until I say so," he says firmly, two fingers resting above Athanase's heart, reassuring himself that it is still beating properly. It remains a steady drumbeat, familiar and causing the last of his fears to float away.
"If you can wait that long," Athanase grouses. "Who was it that wanted to fuck so badly we ended up doing it in the parking garage."
It's not a question, so August doesn't deign to answer it. He remembers that night perfectly well. They had gone to the theater - an impulse decision on Athanase's part - and though he can't remember anything about the show, the sight of Athanase in a translucent camisole and leather shorts had made his blood rush straight to his second brain. Fucking him over his motorcycle had seemed like an appropriate response at the time, especially given that he knew how often Athan rode the damn thing. He'd wanted to make sure the other thought of him each time he straddled the seat.
"I can," he says instead. "The wait will be well worth it for the treat of watching you beg." Lazily drags his hand across the bony chest, before taking a nipple between two fingers and twisting it just the way that Athanase likes it. Hard and relentless. August knows from experience that he can get the shifter off from just this, if he decides to tease his nipples for long enough, but there is a more appealing treat waiting between spread legs. Idly he holds his fingers up to Athan's mouth, letting his thumb trace across his lower lip until with a sigh Athan opens up and allows him to stick them aside. Laving them with an attention and dedication that he rarely shows, as if aware of where August plans to stick them next. "Good slut," he murmurs softly and reluctantly draws them back smirking at the way that Athan chases after them, as cute as it is to watch him suckling on them though, his own dick is rapidly growing harder again.
"Breathe," August says, the only warning that he gives before he shoves two fingers into Athanase's ass. It's still loose from when he fucked him earlier, the remaining lube adding on to the spit slicking his fingers as he penetrates as deeply as he can. Only to pull out and do it all over again. Rapid thrusts, taking advantage of the breadth and length of his fingers to spear him open. Though he's aware that Athanase can take far more, had once even taken his entire hand when he'd been high on Chasseur drugs and August had been drunk on a particularly good vintage of wine. That had certainly been a pleasant night, and for a moment his thoughts turn to it before he shakes his head, and grins down at his partner. Athanase whines at him, face as red as the highlights in his hair, feet kicking helplessly at the cushions, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. "Unlike with Francis," August says cheerfully. "I don't need a gag to shut you up, all I need is my fingers."
Athanase curses at him, his words a mixture of Greek and French, but whatever insult he's spewing dissolves into a loud whine when August slides a third finger in to join the other two. Takes his thigh in a firm hand and spreads his legs further, settling one over the edge of the couch. "Come now, there's no need to speak like that," he says lightly, fingers stuffed all the way to their knuckles as he spreads them in a way that he knows will make Athanase keen. He's not disappointed. "Keep your leg there, I quite like this view."
He gets another string of insults in more languages that he cares to name, but August doesn't mind, knowing that there's no real heat behind the words. Can tell that each one is spoken more so in jest than true anger for Athanase isn't struggling, instead reclining on the couch like spoiled prince as he swears. Twists is fingers again, turning them this way and that, as his free hand reaches into his pocket and removes his phone. There's a text from Francis waiting for him, sent a dozen minutes ago.
"I'll be home late tonight," it reads. August glowers at it and then looks at Athanase, observing his dick – proudly arched and already dripping precum – his red cheeks and narrowed eyes, the way that he hasn't moved from where August positioned him, despite how he has a tendency to squirm. "Don't touch yourself," August orders and removes his fingers. There's an immediate noise of protest, but he quells it by leaning in to kiss him, soft and sweet. "I'll be right back; you won't have time to miss me."
"I miss you already," Athanase replies, huffing at him. "Hurry back, or I'll be pleasuring myself."
"You won't," August says, utter confidence in his voice. "You remember what happened the last time that you did that?" Watches him smugly as Athanase growls, his face burning even redder and doesn't move. "Atta boy, you stay like that," August says happily and strides into his study, crouching down before the desk to remove a box from the cabinet. Humming thoughtfully as he searches through the various items inside, before removing a handful and returning the box to its residence. Saunters into the living room, the objects held behind his back as he begins the labors task of unbuttoning his shirt. Fully aware of how Athanase's eyes go to him the moment he enters the room. He hasn't moved in the time he's been gone, dick still a pretty pink, cheeks stained, and hair mussed. The picture of debauchery, legs spread, and the silver blond of his hair spread out like a halo around his head.
Once upon a time, August had believed in a god, but he knows better now. There are no gods for men like him. No one to pray to when he's standing at the gallows watching his world end before his eyes. The man before him however – though god he is not – August will kneel at the altar of his feet all the same, and pray to him with all the devotion he could never muster for the god of mortals. Athanase's head rolls as he looks over at him, expression petulant and needy. "Hurry the fuck up," he snaps.
August goes to him, slots a knee carefully between his legs, brushing up against his bottom, and looks up to meet his gaze. Takes the time to wink, before he takes the firm dick in hand and gives it a few strokes to bring it to full mast, his single eye fixed on Athanase's face, drinking in his quiet gasps. Settles his grip more firmly around it, admiring how far the span of his hand can reach, thumb brushing across the head as his smallest fingers presses against his balls. Scratches it lightly with his claw and Athanase gasps louder, a tremor running through his leg. Twists his hand, letting it slide all the way down and then off to instead cup his balls roughly. Hums thoughtfully, deliberating for the sake of the one avidly watching his very action. Athanase whines, barely audible, but to August's ears it is a ringing bell, and he smirks to himself, giving them a teasing squeeze before he drags his hand across the surface and goes back to working it. Feels the moment that Athanase tenses and removes his hand promptly, wiping it off on his pant legs. Smirking smugly when the other screeches in fury.
"Fuck!" Athanase yells, jerking in place and slumping back on the couch. "You ass, put that hand right back where it was." His voice has gone all high-pitched with need, dick wobbling as he squirms. "You!"
"Manners, manners," August says sweetly, as he removes the cock ring from his stash of items and positions it carefully. "I told you. You aren't getting off until I've given permission." Pats the dick gently, grinning unabashedly at the squeaky curses his action draws. "Smile, darling~" Lifts his phone and takes a picture of the beauty splayed out before him, sending it to Francis. "How late? The little prince is waiting." He's not expecting an immediate answer, knowing that it'll take some time before Francis checks his phone, but he doesn't mind, he has something to distract him with. Stows his phone again, and looks down at the man whose stolen his heart, tongue flicking out to lick his fangs.
Athanase glares up at him, a pretty blush painted across his skin, fingers flexing restlessly against the arms of the couch, his chest rising and falling steadily, but August can hear the rapid beating of his heart, can see the naked arousal in his eyes, the lust lurking below the surface like a Crocodylus porosus in the water. He's beautiful and August fully intends to devour him. Athanase's head tilts, his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as the corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk of his own. His eyes are the color of the depths of the ocean, deep and impenetrable. It's an invitation, a challenge, and a promise all wrapped up in one. August slips out of his pants, moving closer to straddle him, knees brushing against his armpits, not hiding the laugh that bubbles up when Athanase squirms; ticklish. Strokes his cheek softly, thumb rubbing against the stubble that lingers there. He knows his own face is just as scruffy, the jail having not been lenient enough to grant them shaving privileges. Athanase's tongue pokes out and licks his finger.
"Patience," August murmurs, and moving to drag a thumb across his lower lip, smiles as his mouth opens in response, allowing him to hook his finger into his cheek and force it open. There's a gargled grumble from Athanase, and his fangs – tiny in comparison to a vampires – glint dully in the light. August rolls his eyes. "Insulting my intelligence will not get you fucked faster." Neatly slips his dick into Athanase's mouth before he can come up with an undoubtedly witty reply. "Only harder." Curls his fingers in soft hair and starts to rock back and forth, slowly plundering the warm mouth that opens up before him. Doesn't look away, admiring the way that Athanase's eyes seem to grow shiny like jewels before tears gather in their corners and start to leak out. He brushes them away with a rough thumb, listening to his ragged breaths, careful not to go to far. Athanase moans around his dick and August finds himself releasing a groan of his own as he feels himself hit the back of his throat. Withdraws and then does it again, slow, and steady, enjoying the sight of Athanase choking on the girth of his cock, spit and pre-cum escaping from his mouth and dribbling down his chin to hang like fragile threads of silk. "In or out?" August asks quietly, stroking his sweaty hair out of his face. "Should I send a picture to our dear magician?"
Athanase nods eagerly, his cheeks puffing out as he tries to respond despite the dick filling his mouth. He's not very successful and August chuckles softly, reaching out to cradle his face firmly as he withdraws. "You're being needy, it's cute, love. I like seeing you like this."
"…out," Athanase mutters weakly, turning his head to wipe his mouth on his shoulder. "Am not needy, you're needy." Flicks a gaze back at him, almost petulant. "Where's Francis?"
"Still at work," August answers, making himself comfortable and taking himself in hand, starting to jerk off. "He'd better hurry home if he doesn't want to miss the show."
"He'd better," Athanase grumbles, licking his lips in a manner that suggests there are many schemes brewing in his mind. "I'm calling dibs." Looks at August challengingly, as if he would ever be foolish to get in between Athanase and the partner he desires to rail into oblivion.
"If you have the energy after I'm finished with you, then by all means, he's yours," August agrees, groaning softly as he feels himself getting close. "I don't think he'd mind." Closes his eye, hand speeding up until it hits him like a wave crashing over a surfer, sending him tumbling deliriously for a heartbeat as he loses himself with a shout. Opens his eye to one of his favorite sights in the world. His seed splattered across his chest and face, great thick ropes of the stuff like paint sprayed across a red canvas. "You wear it well," August says before he can stop himself.
"Shut up and get your picture, you uncultured hoax of a bureaucrat," Athanase snaps, his eyes flashing in mock-annoyance. "You're shampooing my hair later. And braiding it."
"Sir, yes, sir," August says cheerfully and gets his phone out again, pleasantly surprised to see a text from Francis awaiting him.
"I'll be wrapping up shortly," it reads.
"It would behoove you to hurry up," August texts back and sends his newest photo, chuckling to himself as the typing icon appears seconds later.
"Tell Athan he's the prettiest person in the galaxy," is the response.
"Tell him yourself," August sends and sets his phone down, turning back to the beautiful creature before him. It's a good look on him August decides, as is the way that Athanase trembles when he takes his cock in hand. Rubs the precum that insists on leaking out of the top of it just rough enough to make the other whine, breath hitching audibly in a mixture of pleasure pain. August draws his hand back, smirking when the action draws a protest and instead picks up a plastic toy, twirling it between two fingers as he stares down at him. "Francis called you the prettiest person in the galaxy, darling," he says lightly. "I for one think that he speaks the truth." Smiles when Athanase's eyes widen, and he blushes the way that he only does when a compliment has caught him off-guard. Chuckles to himself, pleased at the lack of denial and slips the toy into place, lazily beginning to piston it in and out. "Now then, how many times will you let me edge you, hmm?"
"Fuck you," Athanase grumbles, lifting an arm just enough to flip him off. "You're an insufferable bastard, and I hope you know that."
"Love you too, darling," August says brightly and reaches up to tease his nipple piercings.
"Fuck you!" Athanase howls, several edgings later as he collapses against the kitchen island, legs shaking, hardly able to hold his weight. August laughs, leaning back against the counter himself, and twirling the vibrator controller between his fingers. August's vampiric stamina is at times a curse, but in this moment, it can only be considered a blessing. He pities the poor humans who cannot handle more than one wild romp per night. Athanase, thankfully, is not a human no matter how he acts like one at times and so August feels no need to limit himself to one round per evening.
"No," August replies and takes great care in maintaining his neutral face when the other immediately glares at him. "Maybe if you're good, I'll take you." Tilts his head, and allows a smirk to spread across his lips. "Pin you down on that desk and fuck you until it breaks. I wonder how hard you'll orgasm then?"
There's a strangled noise as Athanase's mouth opens and closes, a wheeze of sheer desperation escaping. He's gone bright red again, and August finds him quite beautiful to look at. Although, it is no great difficulty to make Athanase blush – not when August has years of experience to fall back on – he still relishes in every success. Takes great pride in rendering Athanase speechless, especially when the result is as gratifying as this.
"I… haven't I been good…?" Athanase asks quietly, and oh – Oh. August feels his heart immediately throb at the sight of tears gathering in his eyes, and though he knows they're fake his first instinct is as always to reach out and reassure. Is spared from the embarrassment of falling for such an obvious ploy by the sound of the door opening. Athanase immediately looks over his shoulder, a smile appearing on his face as if my magic. "Francis!" He shouts.
"Francis," August breaths, feeling a wealth of affection for the man who had unwittingly saved him. Steps around Athanase, automatically wrapping an arm around his waist to support him when the latter tries – and promptly fails to walk – and lowers the vibration setting slightly.
"I'm home," Francis calls. "Forgive my tardiness, gentlemen. Work was something else, and by something else I mean a pain in the buttocks." He appears in the doorway to the kitchen, a small figure with colorful hair and a fond smile. "You two look like you've been busy."
"Busy is one way to put it," August says mildly, ignoring the disgruntled hiss from his partner. "Athan here has been a very good boy, you know. I think he deserves a rewards, wouldn't you say?"
Francis blinks and then his smile spreads into some fond even as his cheeks color the pretty red that August loves so much. "That sounds like a marvelous idea," he says and starts stripping.