"Please," Arthur breathed, "Do come in."
Only when given the invitation, did Francois step over Arthur's threshold, and into the light of the hallway. In this artificial overhead light, as opposed to the dim glow in the hideout, the Frenchman's appearance almost caused Arthur to fall over his own feet.
He was ghostly pale, with deep puce circles rimming his capillary laced eyes, which were slightly bloodshot. A strong, blue vein twisted over his skull, and his fingernails were long and glassy. Now Francois looked like one of the undead. The vampire sensed the human's fear and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"I was wearing a glamour. I thought I may slip into something a little more comfortable."
"No, no. Not at all; comfort is a priority." Arthur said quickly, not wanting to offend the other, although he had frightened the living daylights out of him. "Are you in need of nourishment?"
The questions regarding Francois' power bolted through Arthur's brain again. The ability to wear a glamour, being able to read his thoughts from a distance...
"Eager to please?"
"I am your host."
"That you are."
They stared at one another for a moment, Francois' abyssal black pupils rimmed with a celestial blue halo. Arthur found himself unable to give the other his signature 'hard stare', unable to look into his eyes for long enough. Another thought that crossed his mind was the fact that a drunken Arthur had casually invited a very powerful French vampire into his home. Sober Arthur was not going to be best pleased.
"Follow me." Arthur broke the silence at long last, keeping his eye on Francois, not turning his back for more than a second as he entered the study.
The Englishman fumbled around for the light-switch, panicking first when he couldn't find it, and then again when Francois' cool hand slid over the top of his own to click the switch.
Arthur ripped his hand away quickly, as though he had been burnt. Francois didn't seem to care, and if he did, then he hid it well.
"Why don't you get yourself comfortable on the chaise?" The Vampire suggested, removing his coat, top hat, scarf and waistcoat.
"Of course." Arthur responded, though somewhat hesitant. He spied his notepad and pen quickly, keeping in mind where it was - he was so drunk that he would absolutely need to document this experience while awake, or else he would forget it by the time he woke again.
The room was darker than the hallway, and reflected Arthur's decadent taste in furniture even more, with the heavy velvet curtains, hardwood flooring and walls lined from floor to ceiling with leather-bound books, from the works of Dickens to those of Shakespeare. Arthur's personal favourites were Coriolanus, and Macbeth. An oaken writing desk housed Arthur's own works, and a few bottles of gin or brandy, in the drawers.
Carefully, under the observant watch of the vampire, Arthur removed his shoes, socks, scarf, jacket and waistcoat, unbuttoning his shirt before cautiously approaching the chaise.
His heart was pounding in his chest, causing his skin to sweat, his face and chest to become flush and rosy in his nervousness. He felt as a flowered maiden, about to ascend to her marriage bed.
"Don't be shy, ma cherie," Francois tilted his head to the side in admiration, his fingertips gracing over the velvet arm of the chaise, "I won't hurt you."
Arthur clenched his jaw, his chest heaving, abdomen flexing as he psyched himself for what was about to come. He sat down beside Francois, perhaps a little stiffly. A little awkwardly. Ever the virgin.
His fear became apparent when Francois shifted into a more comfortable position, and he jumped, terribly.
The Frenchman hushed him, touching his thigh lightly, demonstrating his gentle touch. Francois' hands skimmed up to Arthur's collarbone, shifting the collar of his shirt. His senses were on high alert when the tip of Francois' nose brushed over his neck.
"Can I see your teeth, first?" Arthur blurted out, shakily.
"I think it would be best if I bit you first," Francois replied truthfully, "You may be a little more than put off by them."
The Vampire kissed his neck, slowly, surprisingly warm lips bringing a smidgeon of comfort to the human - not enough to distract him from the fact that a vampire was mere moments away from biting into his neck, but just enough to pull a sigh of relief from him, and stir those resurrected desires within him. Desires he was ashamed to admit.
Francois continued kissing him, up to his lightly stubbled jaw, where he felt the vampire's silken, curly blond facial hairs against the side of his throat, a new sort of warmth burning through his veins.
"Oh..." Arthur breathed, "That's good..."
The Frenchman chuckled against his skin, the warm breath raising gooseflesh, before he suckled upon Arthur's neck like a rearing babe. The writer was surprised to find himself surrendering, not entirely in control of himself as he exposed his neck - and thus the throbbing artery - to Francois.
He squeezed his eyes shut when Francois' hand slid further up, to the top of his inner thigh, a purposeful thumb and palm toying with his groin. Arthur sucked in a deep breath, and then gritted his teeth when he felt a row of sharp fangs dig in and puncture his skin. He gripped a fistful of Francois' hair, growling out a soft curse, before the pain melted away from his features and his face relaxed.
Arthur pressed his cheek to the vampire's golden head, exhaling through his nose before taking hold of the man's hip, pulling him closer. He wanted to regain control, and keeping a firm grip on this vampire could ensure that.
He gulped for air, his eyes rolling back, the other's name whispered like death on his lips.
"Francois..."
He felt a rush of euphoria, his body starting to shake, while Francois took his fill.
"Oh, you could drink from me all night, you bastard..." Arthur whispered, closing his eyes again, his heat searching for friction, pushed tight against the restrictive silk of his trousers. He heard a contented moan somewhere in the sea of pleasure he was being tided into, and he shoved a greedy hand into the back of the Frenchman's trousers, squeezing and kneading lustfully.
His thighs twitched, sides quaking, his heat ascending to a whole new level as he felt something unexpectedly bursting from him, his untrained body already shuddering and clenching, flexing and jerking underneath the vampire, who soon pulled away, dizzy with delight.
"Ngh... I'm sure your blood has turned to absinthe..." Francois collapsed, his tongue and teeth coated with blood. The vampire's legs were tangled with his, almost sat on Arthur's lap, his hand still resting against the Frenchman's cool, white, marble smooth buttock.
A beautiful red flush now graced the vampire's cheeks and chest, and the writer even felt something hard pressed against the side of his leg.
Interesting. Very interesting.
Arthur leant his head back a little further, finally getting a glance of Francois' teeth. Indeed, he would have been put off; aside from the two, beautiful and unassuming front incisors, the rest of the vampire's teeth were hooked - so as to keep its prey from escaping by anchoring into its flesh - and his lateral fangs were huge, like that of a serpent's.
The Englishman soon felt a damp discomfort in his trousers, and a throbbing ache in his neck, and embarrassment washed over him.
"...Oh, my goodness gracious..."