hello hello random people or people who actually follow me idk. i found this little shorty chilling in an old notebook and figured i'd post it since i have nothing better to do today aside from reading a crappy book, which, admittedly, i'd like to avoid.
disclaimer: i don't own the night world or any of it's characters or even the idea of blood in blood out
jez = 14
morgead = 15
Blood in Blood out
Jez crouched, poised atop Morgead, angling her fighting stick so that is rested in the hollow of his neck.
"Well," she panted, feeling rather pleased with herself. "If that's all . . ."
Morgead said nothing, narrowing his eyes until the cool green showed only in slits. Jez laughed – light and tittering and condescending – and let Morgead up. Grudgingly, he edged to his feet and sat down angrily on the edge of the futon.
The leadership of the gang had just been won back by Jez after a particularly grueling fight. It had left her sore and bloody and breathless – and grinning, because it had left Morgead even more sore and bloody and breathless. And most importantly, it had landed him on his back with the tapered edge of Jez's stick at his throat.
Sweeping damp hair off of her face with aching fingers, Jez turned to Morgead with a sickeningly sweet smile and reminded him, "Blood in, blood out," she gave a flutter of lashes and purred, "Morgy."
Scraping his own hair away from his eyes with bruised knuckles, Morgead scowled and bared his fangs spitefully, but glared at the wall in resignation.
There was a brief silence where Jez eyed him narrowly, and then: "Well?"
Morgead's silted gaze flickered back to Jez – arms crossed and eyebrow cocked.
"What – right now?"
"Of course now, you idiot," Moving so that she was directly in front of him with her hands on her hips now, Jez fixed him with an icy stare and sneered, "What, is the moment not right for you? Is it not how you imagined? Should I light some candles?" And with that, she ordered, "Hold still," and slid neatly into place in front of him.
Morgead sat rigidly as Jez planted one knee between his legs and rooted her fingers in his hair, gently tilting his head back. With a calloused thumb, Jez brushed at the silky skin of Morgead's neck in a way that made him shiver. She paused for a moment, searching his eyes. Anger, embarrassment, something she couldn't quite identify.
Staring into his eyes, Jez could see her own reflection as he looked back and realized how utterly and intimately close they were. Breaking her lovers' stance, Jez struck, plunging her fangs into Morgead's lifeblood.
Throwing herself into her ritual meal to avoid the rushing embarrassment, Jez drank greedily. She barely even registered the extra tang Morgead's humiliation and anger gave his blood. After several deep gulps, Jez seemed to all but lose track of her physical body, feeling only the warmth of Morgead against her and the brush of his mind through the warmth and pleasure his blood brought her. It wasn't until she felt Morgead stirring beneath her that she reluctantly retracted her fangs, and, slowly following the sloping curve of Morgead's neck and jaw with her lips, drew herself back to an upright position.
Regaining her bearings, Jez noticed that Morgead now had both his hands on her hips and had arched his neck back so far his head lolled over the top of the futon. Jez watched him with hooded eyes for a moment while he breathed unevenly and dug his fingers into her hips, eyes closed and teeth clenched. Slipping through his clutching fingers and ignoring the slumping noise Morgead made as he tipped sideways until he sprawled across the futon, Jez left Morgead's apartment feeling pleased and powerful, and quite obliging to forget the muttered obscenities that followed her out the door.
not sure if i should have bumped up the age?