#elijah

“Almost…” you said, moving your foot up Elijah’s leg, till it almost brushed his crotch.

Elijah felt sparks of pleasure run up his leg. His body started to misbehave. He could not let you see this.

Elijah moved away from you so fast you fell onto the floor.

“Elijah?” you said, catching your breath. “What happened?”

Elijah cursed. Did this have to happen now? In front of you, his brother’s friend?

You pulled Elijah towards you, and gasped.

Elijah’s eyes were red, and veins covered his cheeks. His fangs were pointing out.

“Oh no, Elijah,” you said. “Are you hungry? When did you last feed?”

Elijah gulped. “Vampires gain their fangs when hungry… threatened… or aroused.”

You laughed into your hands. “Oh my god. Did I just give Elijah Mikaelson a vampire hard-on?”

Elijah’s grabbed the doorframe with one hand, crushing it. “It's nothing. I just need a few moments to collect myself.”

You sucked your cereal spoon, smiling. “So you do have a thing for me.”

“Of course not. Mere coincidence,” Elijah said, mopping his brow with his handkerchief. His fangs shrunk away.

“So,” you said naughtily, “nothing will happen if I do this.”

You dropped the spoon at his feet and bent to pick it up. Elijah’s eyes were glued to your dangling necklace… and your soft chest beneath.

Elijah’s fangs shot out with a hiss. “For the love of God,” he muttered.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” you said, slinging your hands over his shoulders. “It's cute.”

Elijah shut his eyes. “I am not some newborn vampire, unable to control his lust.”

“But you are around me,” you said, gazing up at him through your lashes.

Elijah watched you with open-mouthed awe, not even trying to hide his fangs.

“It's okay,” you said, lowering your voice. “I have an insane vamp boner for you.”

“Is that so?” he said, his lips pulling up.

Your eyes were wide and innocent as you toyed with Elijah’s collar. “So, what can a vampire do when their fangs…misbehave?”

Elijah smiled down at you, pulling your body against his. His fingers made tiny circles on the silk over your waist.

“There are many options,” he said quietly. “Usually one would leave, but you will not let me. One may try to think about something else,” he coiled your hair around his finger, “but that is also proving impossible.” He raised his chin sharply. “That leaves, well, embracing the situation.”

He swept your hair away from your throat.

“May I?” he said. His fangs were poised over your neck to drink.

Your eyes slipped shut and your breath hitched in your throat. “Of course I'll help you with your little problem,” you said. “You can address my sticky situation later."

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