the bloodlust's a clusterfuck

[vacabdication]

[ Pagan Min has existed for 458 years, and been dead for 437 of them. And in all that time, he’s never quite got the hang of resisting temptation.

He’s having the fucking devil of a time resisting Ajay.

They’ve been carving out a sort of friendship in the time since Ajay apparently decided against making Pagan’s death final – heart staked, head cut off, pieces left in the sun to burn to ash and all that jazz. Pagan has managed to shuffle his undeniable attraction to the man into the background of that, and the desire to taste him goes neatly with it. Ajay isn’t food. But the more time they spend with one another the louder his desire becomes, all of it twined together. Sex, blood, companionship. And it certainly doesn’t bloody help matters that he’s by now fairly sure that Ajay is curious.

Pagan had got a whiff of it the first time his staff had brought him some volunteers when Ajay was in the room. Pagan had called for dinner for Ajay, and they’d brought up platters of more food than one man even of Ajay’s appetite could hope to eat alone, along with three attractive young hopefuls. Pagan had dismissed them with a wave of his hand and one – a young man who Pagan has not fed from previously but is aware has been angling for a spot for some time – exploded into protest that it wasn’t fair. There was a bit of a kerfuffle about that, gasps and an outburst of sharp Kyrati from the attendants, but Pagan had seen the look on Ajay’s face. Relief that Pagan wouldn’t be feeding in front of him all threaded through with an interest in just how piqued the young man had been. Pagan won’t read Ajay’s mind – a minor courtesy – but he hadn’t needed to.

It presents itself again when Ajay drops in unannounced one day. Pagan has just finished feeding, and the woman who offered her blood is clearly in a state similar to post-coital bliss. A willing bite doesn’t always result in orgasm, but Pagan thinks it’s only polite to provide given that’s what most of them seem to expect. Ajay enters the room just as Pagan is healing her bite wound and giving her a fond pat on the hand, and he can hear the way Ajay’s pulse ticks slightly upward when the woman sleepily croons thank you, thank you before the attendants guide her away on wobbly legs. Pagan has never been the sort to derive any pleasure from forcing the issue and that had tempered his want, but knowing that Ajay is wondering about it sets him aflame.

Tonight, they’re tucked up on a couch in Pagan’s library, poring over an old vampire-hunting text the way a pair of friends might choose to watch a shitty horror film together. Pagan running a finger along the page saying no, no, that’s absolute fucking bollocks and Ajay laughing his sweet husky laugh and being mostly careful only to stare at Pagan when Pagan isn’t staring back. It’s a delight to find the attraction is mutual, and Pagan is carefully trying to select the right time to accidentally meet Ajay’s warm gaze in the hopes of advancing matters when there’s a bloody knock on the door.

Dinnertime. Of course. Pagan is regrettably sharp with his no thank you, not now (the last thing he wants to do in the middle of this tentative almost-courtship is remind Ajay Ghale, son of the Golden Path’s most famous vampire killers, that Pagan is a blood-drinking monster) before he catches himself and turns to Ajay. ]

But what about you, my boy? Have you eaten? I’ll have something brought up, anything you like.

Comments

[vacabdication]

Good.

[ It's purred, and the only word Pagan says before he gets back to work. The way Ajay moves to encourage him, with that hand in his hair and the spread of his thighs - just gorgeous. It deserves a reward, so Pagan licks over him once more, traces out a quick little succession of circles over Ajay's rim with his tongue (when you have fangs and talk as much as Pagan Min does, your tongue becomes very nimble), and presses it in, alight with anticipation at the response it might draw. ]