holylaceâ ; valentine !Â
for as well as valentine knows him, he canât always guess exactly what suwonâs thinking. a lot of that is probably whatâs kept him so interested over the past century; predictability is boring. presently, he finds himself vaguely curious as to the lascivious things his companionâs been suggested. not that any of them are going to happen but itâs a healthy wondering nonetheless. suwonâs expression gives nothing away save for his barely contained delight. he likes a game and this brutish stranger is evidently down to play. valentineâs entirely sure of who the winner will be from the outset â vampire versus human wasnât a hard wager to make â but heâs not actually convinced heâs included in the victorâs circle. after all, is it still winning if heâs left in want? not of blood, but of something else.
the ring suwon hands him presents a great deal of trust. to feed without biting is tricky, demonstrating extreme restraint and, usually, only lasts so long. just until the lust and hunger get too overwhelming. suwonâs putting him in charge of drawing first blood and, by doing so, believes that valentineâs thirst wonât outweigh his patience. heâs looking not at their meal but at suwon as he nods, leans, presses a hand down onto the manâs shoulder to keep him from squirming. itâs dizzying, being this close to suwon; valentine feels the overwhelming urge to turn his attention from the column of the humanâs neck to the vampireâs instead. he does not. a deft maneuver of his free hand bearing the ring draws a fine cut to the column of the manâs throat. nowhere vital and only small droplets of blood pearl along its length. if he even feels pain itâs not registering on his face as valentineâs lips fasten to the spot, tongue coaxing across the skin in a way that would be sensual in other circumstances.Â
his responding hum is low, swallowed somewhere in his throat along with the appetizer. itâs only a sampling, really, whetting the vampireâs appetite. carefully, slowly, he starts to suck at the spot, teasing more blood to the surface as one might leave a hickey (not that valâs all too experienced in the action). he can feel his canines aching to elongate, to sink into the flesh at his mouth. he shifts closer, even just the tease of a taste both quenching and creating his thirst. years of restraint draw him back, though. with suwon there especially, itâs easy to tamp down his instincts. theyâre going to share; plus the delayed gratification is itâs own kind of pleasure. valentine is well practiced in waiting for what he wants most.
    valentineâs thirst has always been a tricky situation. suwon knows this,  valentine knows this. but heâs been on his own for decades. on his own, without a single word of a rampage reaching suwonâs ear like before. so, suwon watches carefully as valentine accepts the ring. makes the incision. the man beneath him jumps, and suwonâs immediately on them, âyouâre fineâ he says, so soothing and lovely. feels how he melts beneath him.  âvalentineâs lips are heaven, arenât they? so soft, small.â memories ------ hands fitting a delicate waist, suwonâs full lips catching valentineâs plush little bite. a wet, sloppy kiss too long coming. eyes sliding over to where valentineâs latched, drinking, suwon just------
    combs his fingers through valentineâs hair. so gentle, so soft.  âfeels good, doesnât it?â valentineâs holding himself back. suwon can feel it when his hand cups the back of valentineâs neck, feels how tense his muscles are, how heâs fighting against the urge to give in and it just------Â
    âthere you go.â whispering, doesn't even know who heâs speaking to now. valentine or the man. both need it, and suwonâs all too happy to give it. eyes wide as the lights dance on theri skin, this dark little corner theyâve found themselves in. suwon watching as valentine takes what he wants. after a moment, suwon threads his fingers through valentineâs hair tighter, gives a little pull. guiding, never hurting------  overwhelming, skin prickling. a hoarse, âcan i----?â  his eyes drop to valentineâs lips, and maybe heâs drunk on desperation when he whispers  âlet me taste.â










