I stare out at the ocean, still wordlessly impressed by the massive body of water which both my mother and Seifer had tried to describe to me in the past. To my shame and limited imagination, I assumed that the ocean would only be a far larger lake than I had yet to witness, but now seeing the horizon lined with nothing but water... it's intimidating and confusing. How can there be deserts when so much water exists in one place?
"... don't ..."
Moving my eyes from the never ceasing waves, I look down at the large man resting with his head on my lap. Worry makes me frown with uncertainty, this not being the first time I had to watch Seifer suffer from his dreams. With every day closer to the coast, his sleep has become increasingly restless to the point of him giving up on too much precious rest in exchange for peace of mind. Only once did I comment about the matter, but the blond said nothing in reply. He merely gazed at me with hard emerald eyes, and then sharply turned away with the obvious message that he didn't wish to discuss it.
But since that day weeks ago, Seifer hasn't taken a drop of blood from me. Instead, he taught me the best way to cut myself to lose blood without the aid of the vampire and without causing the problems of too much blood loss, possible infection, and lengthy healing periods. While I understand the need of those lessons, it hurts to watch my blood fall to the ground, untried and wasted. It's a childish reaction, but my thoughts are plagued by questions of why the vampire is denying himself my blood. I feel his hunger and I have seen the reddened areas of his skin now sensitive to sunlight. Why must he torture himself like this?
Pulling out from my thoughts, I focus my vision to gaze at the half-opened eyes of the vampire. I don't respond vocally, but place my hand on his neck, my touch apparently soothing to the sun-damaged skin.
Seifer sighs quietly as he closes his eyes once more. "I'm a fool."
"And you aren't helping," he murmurs while shifting into a more comfortable position. He then moves a hand and begins to stroke the dark symbol on my ankle. "You have small feet."
I frown despite the pleasing touch, not seeing what his comment has to do with anything.
"Not tiny, but small. You know, in some Asian cultures, small feet were a sign of beauty, but mothers put their daughters through torture to keep their feet small into maturity. It didn’t matter that they could hardly walk, just that they had small feet. It's incredible what a person can name 'beautiful' and what another person will do to achieve that so-called beauty." Seifer gazes up at me with a lazy smile. "I want to take you to Asia someday. You'd like it."
"What is wrong with you? You do not sleep for days and drop to the ground. Now you speak of going to an imagined place?"
The blond chuckles. "You think Asia is a mythical realm? I'll have you know, little native, that I have visited that continent on many occasions."
Though surprised that Asia isn't a legendary empire, I scowl at the vampire for his obvious avoidance of the true topic at hand.
"No need to be offended. You can't help not knowing more about the world without seeing it with your own eyes."
Frustrated with the insufferable man, I shove him away as I stand up sharply, nearly losing my footing on the shifting sands. Seifer drops to the ground, huffing with irritation before he glances up at me with his entrancing eyes. Not wanting to let him get the upper hand with his powers, I turn my attention to the ocean and walk toward the cold waves of salt water. Uncaring of my pants, I step directly into the surf and shiver at the chilling touch of the ocean.
But before I can go too far, strong arms are abruptly tight around my chest as the larger man forces me to a stop.
“Are you angry with me?”
Though I refuse to answer, I relax into his hold while my eyes stay focused on the coming waves.
“Does it offend you that I think you have small feet?”
I growl at Seifer for playing obtuse with such a question, but I don’t attempt to escape the tightening enclosure of his arms, knowing well by now that I’m at the mercy of the vampire’s inhuman strength.
“Why won’t you answer me?” Seifer asks with sudden concern, his forehead then placed against the back of my neck. “You can’t be that angry with me already.”
But I am angry with him. He completely and irrevocably changed my life before I could consider the consequences of being bound to this confusing and dangerous man. He made me care enough about his wellbeing such that, for the first time in a long time, I have the desire to live if only to make certain that he doesn’t do something completely stupid. But worse, he changed me into something weak and needy, like a beaten dog who will do anything for scraps and a kind word from its master.
And yet, was I any better the way I was before? Before I cared about waking up to a new day? Before I understood the true meaning of heat and attraction, want and desire?
Seifer shifts behind me such that his lips caress the symbol at the side of my neck and a stray hand sneaks beneath my shirt to stroke bare skin. A soft sigh escapes me at the sensual touch, something that has been infrequent from the blond as of late.
My blood begins to burn as the vampire licks the dark symbol harder, prompting me to suggest, “If you are hungry--“
Before I finish the sentence, Seifer launches back from me, nearly shoving me into the shallow surf with his abruptness. I glare back coolly at the blond, but that sense of irritation fades when I look into his green eyes glowing with a feverish intensity. He quickly places a hand over his revealing eyes, but we both know that it is too late. He can no longer deny the fear he feels.
Calmly, I close the distance between us, and when Seifer doesn’t move, I place my hand at his wrist to carefully pull his hand away from his eyes. Childishly, he keeps his eyes averted, but when I place a hand at his cheek, he cautiously moves his gaze to view my face, as if uncertain I was truly before him. Focusing on my eyes, he smirks weakly and leans into my touch.
“I’m pathetic,” Seifer says in the same tone as when he first woke and declared himself a fool.
“What do you dream?” I ask, now certain that his sleep is bothering him more than he has let on.
“It’s none of your concern,” he states sharply, but as I stare at him firmly in demand of a better answer, he says weakly, “They are only dreams. Nothing to worry about.”
“Then why do you fear them?”
Seifer looks away from my gaze and stares at the ocean. “I’m not afraid of some overly imaginative dream.”
With a sigh, I remove my hand from his cheek and step back from the larger man, the loss of contact making him look at me once more. “I fear some dreams,” I say, strangely comfortable with making the admission of weakness to Seifer. “There were dreams about my mother, my father, and Rinoa… I hate them, but I understand the Spirits’ warnings.”
The vampire scoffs angrily. “My dreams have nothing to do with your spirits.”
I frown, somewhat insulted, but I won’t let him drive me away so easily. Instead I cross my arms and glare at the frustrating blond while I wait for an explanation as to why his dreams aren’t influenced by the Spirits.
Green eyes darken vaguely before Seifer turns and stares at the distant horizon. He remains silent for a time, during which I focus on his profile, momentarily entranced by the noble appearance of the typically crude man. His eyes slowly narrow as if seeing something to his dislike on the horizon, but I see nothing of interest with my human eyes. He then speaks, his words voiced with exhausted anger.
“My dreams are controlled by demons, sadistic demons who have nothing better to do with their immortal lives.”
“What demons?” I ask, uncertain if the man is being figurative with his words.
Seifer smirks and reveals a lengthy fang. “Do you really need to ask?”
When I don’t respond, the large man turns slowly to focus his strange eyes on me. He then steps close in front of me while raising a hand to gently encircle the side of my throat. His thumb strokes there softly, the cool touch making my body shiver with anticipation.
“You know the legends about my kind, and yet, have you once wondered why you haven’t become a vampire after the various times I’ve bitten you?”
I frown in thought, trying to remember the details of the stories my mother told me. “But I did not drink your blood.”
“A-ah, I forgot about that part of the myths. Well, it’s all bullshit anyway. It takes more than blood to create a monster like myself. Otherwise, all sorts of vampires would be running around and causing mayhem.”
Seifer doesn’t clarify beyond that as he apparently becomes lost in his thoughts, and while he has roused my curiosity, I don’t feel like the man is ready to speak about this subject just yet, and I’m not one to harass a person into speaking. Instead, with Seifer so close to me, I glance over the reddened areas of his skin, my concern for the man returning. He needs my blood, and though he seems determined to suffer, I’m tired of watching him waste away without reason.
“I hurt, Seifer.”
Green eyes refocus on me and his pale lips set into a concerned frown. “It seems a bit soon for that, but some bloodletting shouldn’t do you any harm.”
“No, I need you to do it.”
The vampire stiffens vaguely as his eyes take on a shielded look. “You did it just fine the past few times, lovely.”
Though I know he understands my true meaning, I decide to clarify by holding onto the hand still resting on my neck. Gazing defiantly into green eyes, I say, “Your hunger hurts me.”
He seems surprised by that, even though he was the one to tell me that I would be driven to appease his needs. “It… It truly hurts you?”
I nod, concluding that his carelessness toward his hunger must be the reason I have felt such aching pains in my chest. What else could it be?
Seifer stares at me while leaning forward as if ready to take what is his, but then he abruptly jerks back, hissing when I don’t release his hand and prevent him from moving further away. “I can’t do this, Squall. Not now.”
He looks away before speaking in a soft, desperate tone. “I’ll hurt you.”
“This hurts more than your bites.”
“So you believe,” Seifer argues. “But I could tear out your jugular with a single swift bite.”
“And I could stake you when you sleep.”
His head snaps in my direction, his eyes glowing with uncertainty.
“I could, but I do not want to,” I reassure him quietly. “Do you want to kill me?”
Slowly an arrogant smirk forms as his hand loosens at my throat. “No, I like you alive. But the demon in me has other ideas.”
“But do you want to hurt me?"
The smirk softens while his eyes take on an odd look. "In some ways, yes. You can't imagine how badly I want to hurt you. But the demon... he wants differently. He wants you broken."
"The demon... he is real?"
The large vampire says nothing for a long time, but patience has always been a strength of mine. So we stand in the shallow surf, myself continuing to examine the blond man’s strong features and the inhuman glow to his eyes. It makes me believe in the ‘Fate’ my mother always went on about, the same ‘Fate’ which brought my parents together. How else could I have met such a man as this arrogant blond.
"It takes more than blood to make a monster,” Seifer says for a second time, apparently ready to continue what he had mentioned previously about the myths being wrong about his kind. “A long time ago, I was offered the powers of a demon, a chance of immortality along with inhuman abilities. Since the beginning, I’ve been a fool desperate for power, so it was no surprise that I didn't say 'no' or even question what I had to sacrifice in return. While we didn't have the same stories about vampires back then, I still knew that I was dealing with a devil and I didn't care one bit.
"It involved a complex ritual to change me. While I had been drained of blood like the stories describe, it was more to weaken my mental resistance than anything else. And so, with me chained and bound to a stone floor, a demon was summoned to inhabit my body." The vampire closed his eyes and sneered viciously. "I don't know how long the pain lasted, but I was very surprised to wake up alive and still a part of this world. And then I felt the hunger... My Mistress presented me with my first victim and I only hesitated long enough to figure out how I was supposed to satisfy my needs with the sobbing woman. Her blood was the sweetest thing I had ever tasted and I remember being disappointed when she died too quickly."
I smirk at the man's unending attempt to frighten me away with tales of his previous life. "Then the demon gives you life?"
Seifer scoffs. "Life... I wouldn't exactly call it that."
I shrug, not caring about his technicalities.
"He hates you," the vampire states with a smug tone. "He doesn't like how weak you make me."
"You make you weak."
Seifer frowns darkly before turning his back to me. "I'm not taking your blood, Squall. I'm sick of feeding the demon within me at another’s expense. And you, especially... The next time I place my mouth on your neck, I will surely kill you."
I stare at the man's tense pose, not understanding his hesitance in the least. "Why now?"
"Why now what?" he asks angrily.
"Why will the demon kill me now?"
The vampire straightens, but with his back turned, I can't guess his reaction to the question. When he offers no reply, I step carefully the man, the surf pulling at my feet with an interesting sensation, but I ignore it with a silent promise to explore it more at a later time. I don't stop my approach until I’m very close to the larger man, and I'm vaguely surprised at myself for wanting to be within inches of another person. Cautiously I place a hand at the middle of his broad back, earning a harsh shiver from the blond at my touch.
"Your dreams confuse you," I say softly, guessing that his disturbed sleep of the past several weeks must be the reason for his state of mind. "These demons you spoke of… they want you weak, and you let them make you weak."
"I don't let them do anything," Seifer states defensively.
"But you will 'let' the demon kill me?"
Faster than my eyes catch, the vampire turns around and grabs my hand in an awkward hold, making me hiss out in surprised pain. "Don't twist my words."
With a knowing smirk, I defiantly meet his glare. "My blood is for you and your strength. No one else’s."
His grip tightening around my wrist, Seifer stares at me with hard, examining eyes for a long moment. I almost forget to breathe as the intense gaze seemingly bores through my thoughts and searches my soul. Then, unexpectedly, the corner of his lips twitch into slight smile before a breathy laugh leaves the large man. Smirking feebly, he raises my arm to press a soft kiss at the dark circle on my wrist.
"How could I forget that this body belongs to me," Seifer murmurs against my skin.
The effect of his touch on the symbol he placed on me is instantaneous as ecstasy rushes through my veins, but I ignore that overwhelming pleasure to stay focused on the vampire. My resistance, however, is tested when emerald eyes bright with relief and gratitude meets my gaze. How I hate this man for the way he can simply look at me without a spoken word and make me want to do anything for him.
"I nearly fell for it," Seifer says with subtle anger. "I was about to let that bitch convince me that I would hurt you, and she knows that I won't take another's blood once I've bonded with someone else."
"My Mistress and eternal tormentor. She encourages the demon within me while adding her own special flavor of sadism."
"If you know this..."
"Then why do I let her get to me?" he supplies, finishing off my question for me. At my nod, Seifer sighs. "I don't know. I think I'm old and tired, or perhaps she has merely trained me to believe her lies. Either way, it's hard to ignore the visions she sends me."
Gazing at the immortal who suddenly appears defenseless and exposed, I move my hand in his hold to brush my fingers along the man's cheek. "Lies are lies. Your strength is the truth."
"It's not that simple, little native."
"It can be."
Seifer chuckles. "Youth - they believe in everything."
Before I can argue, the vampire caresses my wrist with his lips once more, this time adding the sharp graze of his unnatural teeth.
“You want me to sate my hunger,” Seifer says in a vaguely questioning tone.
Lost in heat, I manage only a noise of affirmation.
“A-ah, but we would have a little problem then – my hunger runs deeper than my need for blood.”
I stare at the smirking face, knowing full well what the man wants from me. From the beginning, he has hinted about other needs with both his words and touches. I suppose it could have been the only thing I truly feared about the vampire, that he would ask this of me. But while I first feared the act itself with this man, I don’t think that is true anymore. No, now I simply fear what else sex could lead to.
Bowing my head to hide my eyes with my lengthy bangs, I ask, “You will not leave me?”
Without warning, Seifer jerks on my arm and causes me to stumble forward and press against his larger body. His free hand goes behind my head and he persuades me to look up into his eyes glowing with an intense warmth which belies his cooler skin. "I already told you that you're trapped with me for the rest of your life. Why else would I taunt myself with your blood when I couldn't bring myself to taste you?"
I want to believe his words, but I won't surrender to such foolish hopes that someone I care about won't eventually desert me. But I also won't voice my thoughts to Seifer, too afraid that he'll prove me right someday. "Then do what you want."
The blond frowns vaguely at my indifferent response, but his eyes reflect the victory he feels at receiving my permission. "We should return to the inn. I doubt that you'll be able to walk after I have my way with you."
I shiver at his words, partly from anticipation, but I can't stop myself from feeling some fear as well.
Seifer leans down to speak softly in my ear. "I'm nothing like the others in your past. I won't take pleasure in your pain."
Though I suspect the vampire laced his words with his suggestive powers, I don't resist him and relax in his hold. I suppose I asked for this outcome by stubbornly refusing to escape this man whenever he gave me the chance, and since it's apparently my fault for encouraging him, I should accept my responsibility with a sense of honor. Pushing back from his chest, I look up into the entrancing gaze of the vampire and nod once in a sign of trust.
Beautiful. That's the only description which comes close to the sight before me as I watch Squall methodically remove his clothing. The room is dimly lit with the single window covered by a thick blanket, but strips of bright light filter through as the blanket flutters from a cool breeze. That flickering light shines across deeply tanned skin which covers the lean muscle of the native, the lovely sight reminding me of sculptures created by master craftsmen. But adding to his unique beauty are white scars of varying depth which stand out on that skin, such imperfections rarely shown in works of art.
As Squall removes his pants, I watch the way his thick hair shifts with his graceful movements and shines with the occasion flash of light. I want to rake my fingers through that hair and brush the long strands away from his somber face, but I'd hate to move and break the brunet's intense concentration. More likely than not, Squall is remembering his past and is readying himself for pain. I won't bother correcting his views anymore, realizing that the man relies more on actions than words.
The native straightens, fully naked before me and his face set into an uncertain scowl. I smirk at his expression, and before he can speak a word, I drop into a slower time. I take my time with undressing, my eyes staying focused on the beauty in front of me. It's been a long time since I've wanted someone like this, desiring both the body and the person. The last one was a woman nearly two hundred years past, and I don't think I've ever had the same intense feelings for a man. Interesting how two people can meet and find something they didn't even know they had been searching for.
With soft steps, I stride up to the man seemingly frozen in time and move behind him to loosely wrap my arms around the lithe body. As I return to normal time, Squall inhales in surprise as his hand goes to the arm resting on his bare chest. I smirk at the furious scowl which forms, knowing full well of the man's hatred toward my ability to move without him seeing me.
"You are cold," he states harshly.
"Am I? Well then, you'll just have to rectify that for me."
His frown fading, Squall turns in my loose hold and stares up into my eyes. "Why me?"
"Never question Fate, little native. You won't get any answers in return."
While the stormy-eyed man seems to think through my reply, I take advantage of the distraction and bend down to claim his lips. Squall jerks at the move, but then relaxes once realizing my intention. Like times before, I have to spend some time coaxing the native with soft pressure and gentle bites before he gives me entrance into his mouth. His unique taste makes me groan quietly as I move my hand down his strong back and find one of the dark symbols located there. My massaging touch on the sensitive marking prompts the smaller man to arch forward and press his warmer body against mine in a very satisfying fashion.
Smirking into the kiss, I stroke my tongue hard against his, persuading Squall to enter into new realms. Though hesitant, the native finally decides to be adventurous and taste more of me. With little time to waste, he unsurprisingly tongues a lengthy fang, the curious touch making me moan at the sensation of want it causes. Squall breathes a laugh into the kiss and presses his body harder against mine. I try to pull back to make a comment, but the native doesn't release his hold on me. He instead rubs his tongue along my other fang, and then curls beneath the pointed tooth in a way that creates a deep cut on his tongue. The burst of blood makes me inhale sharply before I promptly begin to suck on the tongue leaking sweet nectar. But once I get control over my instincts, I realize what the man had done and I pull back sharply.
Unbothered by my stunned glare, the native licks his lips, the move leaving a light coating of blood on soft flesh.
Vaguely amused by the most likely unintentional sultry look, I ask, "Doesn't that hurt?"
Squall cocks his head in a thoughtful manner. "No. Is that your fault?"
"Perhaps," I say, knowing that my bites shouldn't hurt him anymore, but I've never had a partner purposefully cut themselves on my fangs.
The native then frowns with disgust. "The blood tastes bad."
"I might be able to help there," I murmur before licking the smear of blood from his lips.
Rejoined in a deep kiss, I carefully lead Squall back toward the bed, my attention split between needing to suck his tongue dry and wanting my dick deep within this unpredictable beauty. Somewhat reluctantly I stroke the cut with my tongue in a sealing manner and pull away from our kiss before helping the smaller man to the mattress. While that wary gleam is still present in his stormy blues, Squall smoothly stretches out along the length of the bed and gazes at me with a silent invitation.
Unable to hide my lustful smirk, I straddle over the native and promptly get to work with tasting his sun-loved skin. Squall shifts his head to give me the best access to his neck, but I don't take the offering as he wants me to. Instead, I tease the dark symbol on his skin by grazing my teeth over the sensitive marking, eventually drawing an almost unheard whimper from the brunet. Wanting to create more noises from the stoic man, I travel lower along his toned body with my mouth, purposefully pausing at the tender points I had long ago discovered with my exploring hands.
In short time, Squall tries to squirm away from me, his breaths ragged and his resolve to remain silent weakened. I chuckle softly at the man's vague attempt to escape from the pleasure I'm forcing upon him. It has always been that way, the native obviously appreciating my various touches, but he fears them as well, and so he fights the overwhelming desire as long as he can, and when that fails, he tries to run away from those sensations. Respecting his fears, I've allowed him his escape in the past, but not today. Today I will show him that there is nothing to fear.
As my hands rest firmly at his hips, I place gentle kisses and licks along his hardening arousal, the move not entirely welcomed by Squall, but he soon relaxes once realizing I have only soft caresses in mind. Smiling at earning more of his trust, I continue lower to nibble along his inner thigh, the move drawing a strong gasp from the brunet as his leg jerks away. With a scolding hum, I grab onto his thigh and lift it into a more comfortable position for my purposes. I lick and suck on the warm skin, causing it to redden with increased blood.
Not ceasing my attack on the leg, I shift my eyes to the half-lidded gaze of the native. I smirk broadly at his flushed appearance, and after showing him my fangs, I bite into the willing flesh to claim what is mine. Thick blood heated with life flows into my mouth, the bite causing Squall to groan wantonly and drop back onto the pillow with his eyes tightly shut.
Once certain the man was in no pain, I close my eyes to savor the taste of the native, but fallen into darkness, I'm assaulted by the mocking laughter of the demon within me. Words of weakness and hatred echo in my mind, making my stomach curl with nausea and distaste toward the sweet blood of the brunet. I pull back sharply from the deep bite, forgetting to seal the wound with my abrupt retreat. Unable to think straight, I stare entranced as streams of vibrant red flow along brown flesh and slip underneath the thigh such that I can feel the heated liquid on my supporting hand. Before I have the chance to drop the leg in disgust, I'm startled by the touch of warmth at my bare shoulder. Turning my head, I stare directly into the warm gaze of the native, and as if he were the one with immortal powers, I feel trapped by his pale blue eyes, unable to move away as I want to.
His fingers stroking along the back of my neck, Squall says softly, "Your skin is healing fast, but you need more blood."
I sneer in the attempt to hide a shameful wince. "It's never enough. No matter how much I take, the demon within me will never be sated, and he'll always laugh at me for given into his desires."
Squall frowns in thought, and then speaks slowly as he does whenever uncertain about getting across the right meaning in English. "The demon gives you life and makes you strong, not because he wants that. So he is your slave, under your power. But slaves need to be fed or they die. Why is it bad to feed him?"
I stare at the brunet for a stunned moment before I laugh. "You think he's my slave? A demon of the underworld?"
"Then, he... freely gives you his power?"
The simple question makes me stare at the native, my thoughts running wild at the suggestion I had never really considered. With our joining centuries ago, the demon's power became mine as well, something I doubt any dark creature would give up willingly. But in my youth, the demon didn't seem to mind as he had greatly enjoyed the way I used his powers to torture and destroy the humans who were pathetically weaker than I. However, since those dark years, I have become more of a hermit than anything else, unwilling to harm others for the mere sake of causing pain. Despite his fury about my change of heart, the demon had been unable to change me, and only my Mistress has been able to lend him more power to taunt me, to weaken me... But even so, he has yet to fulfill his venomous promises to kill Squall, not gaining enough control over my body to even bruise the trusting native. There has only been mind games, nothing more, and I'm enough of a fool to believe his baseless threats.
Smirking at the weakness of my mind, I return to the bloodied thigh of the brunet and gently clean the warm flesh while also closing the bite mark I had created. As I feel the rage of the demon within me and realize the powerless situation of the enslaved creature, I laugh softly and move forward to force Squall onto his back. Sparing a moment to stare down into his intelligent gaze, I lower my body to cover his smaller form. After licking his neck in a bare warning, I sink my fangs into the familiar location and once again lose myself in drinking the essence of the native and his freely given strength.
Some time passes as I greedily satisfy my hunger, only the touch of the native waking me from my preoccupied state. In a cautious move, his arm wraps over my back and slides upward so that his hand grasps onto my shoulder. Using me as support, Squall lifts himself to press his body against mine, purposefully rubbing his erection against my thigh. Nearly laughing at the needy touch and his subsequent groan of bliss, I quickly close the puncture wounds on his neck and remove the arm from my back so that I can move onto my knees.
"Did you want something, lovely?"
Refusing to meet my gaze, Squall glares intently at the wall in an attempt to hide his embarrassed blush.
"Well, I know what I want." I reach down to retrieve a vial from beneath the bed, and then show the container of expensive oil to the native. "I should warn you that even with lubrication, this could hurt."
A shadow of a smile forms before stormy eyes shift in my direction. "I know."
Receiving the only type of permission Squall will offer me, I carefully position the man so that I have easy access to prepare him. He immediately tenses with the first touch of my fingers against his anus, but I didn't expect anything less. Placing my free hand around his waist, I lightly caress one of the symbols branded onto his lower back, the effect instantaneous as Squall arches with pleasure and relaxes enough to give my oiled fingers free reign to enter deeper into heat. Once recognizing the diversion for what it is, the native glares at me half-heartedly, but then inhales in surprise when I stroke just the right spot deep within him.
"Didn't expect anything pleasurable involved with this?"
After a couple deep breaths, Squall focuses a tired glare at me. "You do not need to be nice. This is for your hunger."
"But perhaps my hunger is best satisfied when I'm pleasuring my lover as well as myself."
Eyes dark with desire widen in disbelief. "Lover...?"
"Well, in another few moments... yes," I state in a low purring tone.
As I remove my fingers, Squall shivers and promptly looks to the safety of the wall while ignoring my undoubtedly lustful expression. Not wishing to prolong the native's discomfort, I place a large dose of the scented oil onto my erection and shift into a better position while placing a smooth leg over my shoulder. Nuzzling the flesh bruised from my earlier bite, I attract the curious gaze of the native. After an apologetic kiss to his thigh, I shift to nudge my arousal at his opening, and with a hand firm at his hip, I push forward into amazing heat. My breath stolen from me, I quickly realize that it's been too long since I've done this for a reason beyond the simple desire for sex and satisfaction, so long that it's simple torture to force myself to pause and allow Squall the moment to adjust to my invasion.
The sighed out call of my name makes me look up and gaze directly into a flushed, but determined expression. Apparently out of words, the native grabs onto the sheets beneath us and pulls on them to help drive himself further along my length. Hissing at the sharp move, I can't control my body as I finish the thrusting motion to completely encase myself into the lithe body. Squall echoes my inhaled breath and shifts in a way that proves his discomfort, but he doesn't retreat from me. Instead, he treats me with the sight of a pleasure-drowsy gaze and his lips parted in an inviting manner.
Though I imagine this will leave me open for future taunts about my old age, I decide that I need to end this quickly before I completely lose my control and injure the trusting human beneath me. With measured strokes, I thrust into the inviting body, never taking my eyes away from his stormy gaze. Finding no pain but little pleasure in his expression, I find release harder than I imagined, but with both of my hands occupied, there is little I can do to rectify the situation.
"Use your hand, lovely."
Squall stares at me with simple horror at the breathy suggestion, but he then relaxes as much as possible for the serious man. His gaze sharply leaves mine, but I notice how one of his hands releases its deadly hold on the sheets. My thrusts become more sporadic as I watch the play of uncertainty, embarrassment and fear beneath me. Carefully, as if stalking skittish prey, his hand moves to his toned stomach and slips across smooth skin. With my eyes locked onto the wandering hand, I adjust my rhythm such that with the first hesitant touch of his fingertips on his erection, I thrust sharply and deeply into the lithe body. A yelp-like noise escapes Squall as he jerks his hand away, the unexpected reaction making me laugh despite my better sense. Icy eyes glare at me for finding humor in his humiliation, but I find that I can't stop myself. The best I can do is press my mouth against his thigh and try to contain my laughter.
Gradually, his irritated expression fades into something more thoughtful, and then Squall shifts his body to remind me about our joined situation. "Do not stop," he commands hoarsely as he tentatively places his hand back onto his stomach, but no further.
Proud of his never-ending ability to surprise me, I follow his order and continue with harder strokes than before. Squall groans and closes his eyes at the assault, but my fear of harming him is removed when he arches his body and meets my thrusts with his own movements. The limit finally arrives for me when the native overcomes his anxiety and fingers his thickened erection. It's too much to witness his timid attempt of masturbation, especially after his previous endeavor, and my body reacts almost immediately as I manage a final thrust into encasing heat.
It's a slow recovery from the greatly needed release, and once opening my eyes, I stare down into an oddly curious gaze. "Wh... what's wrong?"
Squall blinks at my breathy question, frowns softly, and then looks away with a thoughtful expression.
Too satisfied to take any offense at the man's silent ways, I carefully and somewhat reluctantly remove myself from the tight warmth. Crawling forward to rest at his side, I press my face against his neck and lazily taste the heated skin slick with sweat. The arm I unintentionally trapped beneath me curls up as Squall rakes his slim fingers through my hair in a most pleasing manner. Wanting to express my appreciation, I move my hand to his leaking hardness and promptly fist the vulnerable organ. Squall attempts to argue and avoid the intimate contact, but I don't give him that option. With my hand moving in fast, hard strokes and my teeth grazing the sensitive seal on his chest, I soon have the willful man moaning in that odd language of his. Somewhere in the mix, my name is spoken repeatedly in a harsh scolding fashion, but the native doesn't struggle against the release I want to grant him. Instead, he succumbs to it beautifully with a quiet cry as his hips jerk up high and his hand clutches hard onto my defenseless hair.
Enjoying the dazed look of the native, I lift my hand to my lips and thoroughly clean the salty fluid from my fingers. Squall stares at the action with a gleam of revulsion in the drowsy gaze, but when I simply smirk at his distaste and continue to savor his essence, his pale lips twitch into a bare smile before quickly flattening into a serious line.
"You did not have to do that."
"Perhaps, but did you mind my touch?" I ask innocently while removing any remaining residue from my hand onto the bed sheets.
"Then what's the problem?"
Squall sighs in frustration, but he proves his exhaustion by not continuing the argument.
Chuckling to myself, I sit up fully and bend down to treat myself to a soft kiss against defenseless lips. Too tired to fight, the native opens up to my explorations and softly joins in with the gentle tongue play. Pulling away with a kiss to the corner of pale lips, I gaze down into hazy gray eyes and favor him with a small smile before I move to the edge of the bed.
"Where are you going?" Squall asks sharply, immediately alert with my apparent departure.
"I'm just leaving for a short time. I need to locate my Mistress before nightfall."
"But..." Cutting his complaint short, the brunet glances away from my eyes and mutters something in his native tongue.
It's a simple matter to guess the reason why I've upset the man, but I don't attempt to vocally appease his worries. Instead, I stand up from the bed and walk to the dresser where my holster currently rests. Removing a knife from its bindings, I pull the plainly decorated blade from its sheath to examine the metal dark gray with age. Though it takes a moment to convince myself that this is a good idea, I return to the bedside and hold the hilt of the knife out to the native.
"Keep this for me." When Squall doesn't move except to direct a confused glare at the weapon, I explain, "I won't face my Mistress without it, so you'll be certain to see me before I do anything stupid."
The native frowns without taking the blade, obviously trying to determine whether or not he can trust my word.
"It was my father's knife in the long past," I add in a hushed voice, surprised by the amount of emotion that man can still draw from me.
Stormy eyes widen vaguely before Squall reaches out for the hilt with an almost reverent touch. He quietly examines the blade like I had only moments previously, except he also lightly fingers the edge of the knife, trailing the small runes which I had etched into the aged metal decades past.
"I'll try to be back before sunset," I assure the silent man while giving him the sheath to the knife. "You should sleep until I return. I didn't take too much blood, so an afternoon of rest should help you to replenish your strength."
Nodding as he sheaths the blade, Squall says, "Do not be long."
"As you command, my Indian prince."
He frowns at the title, and then huffs in annoyance as he lies down with his back to me. "If you want to leave, then leave."
Thinking that I'd be mad to actually want to leave this beauty, I collect my clothing from the floor and dress with slow reluctance. It shouldn't be a difficult matter to locate my Mistress, Adel never one to favor the shadows, but to find the bitch means that I'll have to finally face her, that I'll have to be strong against my 'mother'. Glancing back at the silent figure on the bed, I wonder at his somber strength, it being something that Squall didn't gain through demons or darker means. How I wish I knew him when I was younger, that he could have given me the strength to resist the toxic lies of the vampire mistress. But back then, I probably would have rejected him and refused his aid while in constant denial about my weakness. Why did I have to be such a worthless prick?
Somehow managing to dress myself while lost in thought, I slip the holster around my waist, the missing weight of the knife easily felt after decades of carrying the important blade. I allow myself a final glance back at the resting man, and with a whispered call for him to sleep well, I leave in search of my eternal tormentor and dark mother, promising to myself and the ghosts of my past that, one way or another, everything ends tonight.
Groaning into wakefulness, I glare at the thick blanket which had gotten caught onto the windowsill and allowed irritating red light into the small room. For a long, bleary-eyed moment, I debate my options of either hiding under the covers or possibly throwing something at the evil window. But eventually it registers to my fuzzy mind that the light of the setting sun means that Seifer should return at any moment. And here I am, naked in our bed. That can't lead to anything good.
Reluctantly and with expected soreness, I move to stand up from bed, but the touch of warm metal against my skin makes me pause. Picking up the knife, I stare down at the weapon that I had accidentally fallen asleep with. There is a strange aura to the simple piece of metal, its touch reminding me of the treasured ritual items belonging to my tribe. Despite being in the possession of a vampire, it doesn't have a dark energy, but something more... cleansing to its feel. But more importantly, given its power and its obvious meaning to the blond, I can't figure out what I did to deserve his trust to this extent. It's almost too much, and yet...
Clutching the knife close to my chest, I stand up from the bed with the intent to clean and dress before Seifer can return, but my attention is caught by motion from the corner of my eye. I stare at the long mirror next to the bed, and then dare to approach the reflective surface. Glancing over my body, I find nothing remarkable about the thin frame lacking defined muscles and the dry skin marred with shameful scars. It's a normal male body with all of its human weaknesses and awkwardness. In his old age, Seifer must be blind to find anything praiseworthy about this mortal form.
With a drifting hand, I take a silent count of the numerous bite marks remaining from the morning's events, there being only two spots of dark bruising from deeper bites. Caressing a few tender areas, I'm surprised by the lack of revulsion I feel toward such marking as compared to times before. ... No, if I wanted to be truthful with myself, I can't say that I'm surprised. With the first touch of his naked body against mine, I knew that sex with Seifer would be unlike anything I had experienced before. I was afraid to believe it, but I knew I wouldn't regret giving into the needs and desires of the vampire. I knew I was safe.
Refocusing on the mirror, I examine the intricate symbol burned onto my chest and finger the edge of the outer ring. Seifer called it the 'seal of life', but quickly warned me that I wasn't cursed with an immortal existence. It saved me from the brink of death and currently makes me harder to kill, but nothing more. The other symbols on my body are more for the vampire's needs, to keep my blood flowing strong and my body sensitive to his touch. Thankfully Seifer neglected the symbols on my forehead which would have made me more susceptible to his manipulations, but I know that he finds enjoyment in my resistance and my subsequent surrenders. I can't imagine him wanting it another way.
My eyes snap up to the reflection of my face, the smile which had been there promptly disappearing at my surprise. How long have I been able to smile like that again?
But before I have the chance to contemplate that thought, the mirror wavers oddly as I stare at it. Dark shadows seep in from the edges of the frame, the image within the mirror slowly taking form of a tall woman. While unable to look away from the disturbing use of magic, I step back from the mirror, moving as far as my stunned state allows me. Abruptly, the image comes into focus with a crimson-haired woman dressed in a horrid purple outfit staring at me with dark amusement. The moment her eyes of red and black meet my gaze, my body becomes heavy and cold as I can no longer back away.
"My, this is an unexpected sight," the woman states smugly as her unnatural eyes glance over my naked form. Shame and disgust burn through me at her examination, but my body refuses to move even to cover myself. "At least my son still has good taste in his playmates. If only he had the better sense to avoid his attachments to such pets."
As she speaks, I stare at her pointed teeth, slightly yellowed with age and neglect. With her features and her phrasing of 'son', I can only imagine that this is the 'Mistress' Seifer referred to earlier today. Coming to that conclusion concerning the woman's identity, I feel an odd sense of calm returning to me.
"Now, tell me where Seifer is hiding?"
Clutching onto the knife still in my hold, I fight the urge to tell her everything I know about the man's whereabouts. Her power is different compared to Seifer's more subtle use of manipulation, but despite its strength, it takes less effort to resist the direct command.
The crimson-haired woman smirks coolly. "Come now, human, I know that he is near. He would never leave that trinket of his behind."
"Very well, hold you tongue. I heard rumors that someone of his description was in town, and I was curious if my long lost son was going to pay me a visit, but no matter." In a graceful move, she lifts a pale hand and motions me forward with curl of her lengthy finger. "Come closer, pet."
Again I fight her command, but I still walk forward with halting steps, hoping that she won't notice her lack of control over me. Her red eyes brighten at my approach, the hungry gaze making my skin crawl with disgust. I stop mere inches from the mirror, the closer examination of the vampire making me wonder how Seifer could even consider to trust this demon in human guise.
"I wanted to speak to that troublesome child, but you will leave my message for me." Shadows flicker in the blood-red eyes before she speaks in a low, seductive tone. "The moment my son returns, you will bury that knife deep into his chest and feast on the blood he stole from you."
Horror overwhelms me at the thought of attacking Seifer, but unlike her previous commands, this one slips right pass all of my mental shields and settles in my mind, echoing with an intensity I can't ignore. The weight in my hand becomes more noticeable and my mouth waters at the idea of tasting Seifer for a change, but I know these aren't my desires. I try to empty my mind of the sickening images the woman has forced upon me, my attempt of resistance causing needle-like pains in my skull.
"Do not worry, pet. He won't die from something so simple, and there is a fairly good chance that he'll forgive you later."
I growl at her mocking tone, the ache of my head angering me further.
"You can't fight my power, mortal. Do my bidding and give my lost child something to remember that I'm the one who controls his life."
Before I consider my actions, there is the abrupt sound of shattering glass as I smash the hilt of the knife against the mirror. It's hard to tell, but the broken image of the vampire appears startled by my success at breaking the bonds of her power. Not giving her a second chance to speak, I bring knife down on the mirror once again, repeatedly hammering the mirror until all that is left is the battered wooden frame and the shards of glass on the floor. Exhausted and hurting deep within my soul, I drop to my knees, uncaring of the pieces of mirror cutting into my skin.
Mere moments later, the door to the room slams open despite its previously locked state. "Squall! Fuck, what in God's name happened here?"
My eyes widen at the familiar voice, and my hands automatically unsheathe the knife as the red-eyed woman's command echoes to my hearing with a frightening pitch. I don't want to attack Seifer and I certainly don't need his blood, but my resistance has been seriously weakened by my previous rebellion to destroy the mirror.
A quiet whine passes through my lips as I fight the losing battle against the suggestion implanted into my mind. I refuse remove my eyes from the blade in my shaking hand, terrified that looking directly at Seifer will be my downfall. The sound of a closed door makes me jump, and I then tense further as the large man steps unthreateningly in my direction. He squats in front of me, but thankfully doesn't touch me as I shrink back from his presence.
"Squall, I want you to look at me."
I shake my head, the movement making me wince in pain.
"It's alright. I won't let you hurt me."
The soothing voice layered with subtle manipulation calms the quakes from my body. Feeling stronger despite the continued screaming in my ears, I hesitantly raise my head and meet the vibrant green gaze of the vampire. The smug smile on his face makes me frown with a new desire to stab the man with his own knife.
"You are incredible," Seifer whispers before placing his hand at the back of my neck, and then surprisingly caressing his lips against mine in a tender kiss. Pulling back a short distance, he stares directly into my eyes. "What message did my Mistress leave for me?"
"I... I have to stab you... and take your blood," I respond with some surprise that he could guess the source of my dilemma.
"O-oh? Well, I'm glad that you have an unnatural ability to be stubborn. That blade would have easily killed me with a well placed strike."
I stare at the vampire with confusion and dread. "How...?"
Seifer smirks before lifting his hand to his mouth and biting a lengthy fang into his thumb to start a dark flow of blood. Seemingly unworried by my tenuous control, he places the thumb on my forehead and streaks warmth across my skin. Almost immediately the invading voice disappears from my mind, the sudden freedom from the woman's suggestive power making me drop the knife and slump forward against the solid form of the blond.
"You shouldn't stay here, lovely. There is glass everywhere."
I ignore him, wanting my previous question answered. "Why can this knife kill you?"
"I will explain while I'm cleaning your cuts," Seifer states while standing, unfortunately pulling me up with him. Once I'm seated on the bed and he has retrieved some bandages and ointment from my saddlebag, the vampire begins to carefully pick glass from my knees. "Have I mentioned how much I despise my Mistress?"
I don't respond to the question, recognizing its rhetorical nature.
"This isn't the first time she has commanded someone I trust to betray me. Some have deserted me, others have attacked me... She is very good at guessing what sort of betrayal would hurt me the most. You using that knife against me when I have rarely let others even hold it..." He smiles with a quiet chuckle. "It's ironic that the one time her scheming could have killed me was when she was dealing with someone who can resist the power of demons."
Numbly, I listen to his deep voice and watch the methodic way he removes glass from my skin with an overly tender touch. Though he is a man possessed by one demon and tormented by other underworld creatures, I find that it's becoming increasingly difficult to see Seifer as anything other than a man with a tired and damaged soul.
"It was after I was forced to kill an important lover of mine due to that woman's meddling when I decided to take my revenge on my Mistress. Using my father's knife, I placed ancient runes on the blade, making it into a weapon which kills more than the body, but also the demons within."
I look up sharply at the words, just now realizing the seriousness of the situation. Using his knife, I could have killed the demon within Seifer and destroyed his source of life, taking him away from me forever. I could have killed the man who called me his 'lover'.
Seifer glances up into my startled gaze and smiles softly at my understanding before returning to my minor injuries. "It's been well over a century since I modified the knife, but after I had tested the blade against vampires of various ages and backgrounds, I lost my heated anger against Adel. And without that passionate anger, I drown in the uncertainties which make me weak against her manipulations. But since Quistis' death, I've had new motivation to hunt down my Mistress and finish what I should have done long ago. It's too late to mean anything, but I need some kind of conclusion before I go completely insane."
There is silence for a time as I absorb his words and attempt to understand his deeper meanings. "Will you leave me?"
"Actually, that is something we need to talk about," Seifer states while wrapping a clean cloth around my knee. "I know where she is and I'm going to confront her tonight. Frankly, no matter what I could plan, Adel will use you against me, so I'd rather avoid any surprises and have you in my sight from the beginning."
"Then I go."
Not looking up, the vampire warns, "Whether you come with me or not, I can't promise that I'll protect you from her. I need to kill her before she destroys what is left of my soul, and if that means sacrificing you, then I will leave you to her whims without a second thought."
I place a hand under his chin, directing his emerald gaze to look at my face. "You saved my life once and you gave me life another time. My life is not mine - I live for you, and I will die for you."
"Foolish youth," Seifer mutters before knocking away my touch and bending forward to rest his head on my lap. After a time of silence, he asks softly, "Was it so wrong to wish to be strong?"
"You are strong."
"Maybe now, but if so, it's not for the reasons you think."
I frown vaguely, not knowing what he could be implying beyond the powers of the demon fed with my blood or the motivating passion of losing his 'daughter'. But before I can think about his words, I'm startled as the vampire nudges between my legs and steals a lick of my groin. Grabbing his short hair, I pull his head back, unable to do more in my embarrassed state.
Seifer grins up at me. "You smell of sex and blood. It's intoxicating."
Scowling at his lustful gaze, I state, "Now is not the time."
"I know," he admits dejectedly while standing, "but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy a bath together."
"Trust me, lovely. Considering where we are going, you'll want to get that smell washed off."
"Why? Where is your 'Mistress'?"
Seifer smirks, his eyes flaring with a protective gleam. "You'll see soon enough."
Author's Whining -- Whelp, there should only be one more chapter of this story. It was far longer than I planned, but I blame Seifer. Really, these characters need to learn their place and not make these stories so freaking long.