A little drabble, re: a VtM/Ravenloft crossover concept still in development (at least on my end)
Despite aiming for a roaring good time with this one, I [classically] defaulted to the tender rumination end of the spectrum instead. Oops.
Day 10 = Fierce passion + blind me with your blood
“Forgive me. I thought I recognized you.”
“Perhaps you have. My name is Hann,” the man said, extending his hand for a proper greeting. He observed his pursuer with subtle appreciation as he did so, his dark eyes darting along the ample length of Alek’s frame.
“A pleasure, Hann.” Alek shook the hand and offered his own name. “Whither were you going before I interrupted you?”
“To the inn. Would you join me for a drink, Alek? I would know more about my seeming doppelganger.”
“Oh, no. Ages have passed since I knew him. I would rather know the man in front of me. Are you in town long?”
“Long enough, I think.” Hann noticed their hands still clasped together and politely withdrew. “Come.”
“Oh, God—” Hann moaned. His bare thighs rested on Alek’s shoulders, the firm muscle gripped by strong fingers. Hann’s hand curled into Alek’s hair. Alek’s fangs tore through the tender skin high on Hann’s inner thigh.
Tall, dark, and handsome. There need not be anything to delve into there: why his limited palate only drew sustenance from the men who looked too much like his lost lord. The deep brown eyes, the raven hair. Devilishly long legs.
Hann’s voice was all his own. Alek couldn’t quite imagine these salacious tenor cries coming from his old friend’s throat, but the fleeting urge to try curled in an uncanny itch around the pit deep in his stomach.
“You are delicious,” Alek crooned, licking a trickle of blood away from the wound left on Hann’s leg. He returned to mouthing other extremities, now that he’d taken the edge off his thirst for the wealth of blood amassed within. Giving head seemed more an exercise in discipline these nights than anything else he’d practiced before. The amount of control it took not to slice through a protruding vein was monumental.
“You are a menace.” Hann laughed breathlessly. He bucked and groaned. “What did you do? Bite me? It was heavenly...”
Alek hummed around the mouthful of engorged flesh, and drew back quickly with an inelegant wet slurp. Bite me? “Careful, love. I’ll do it again.”
Alek gazed up at his new lover and the crease that formed alongside his mouth when he smiled. Hann’s thighs slipped off his shoulders as Alek rose up to kiss him. Alek tried not to wonder, as he did this: Why these men? Why so many ghosts of that bygone era? He certainly did not contrast their smiles, rare as those of his friend had been. Could he even remember that smile with any certainty? Or was Hann’s mouth now the image that would stay with him? Was his memory just a blur, a hodgepodge, of all the men he had consumed since Death had done them part?
“Shall I bite you?” Hann murmured against Alek’s lips.
“You may.” Waltz right into the hunter’s trap? Of course. “Would you like to?”
“I’m not delicate,” Alek assured him, taunting playfully, “Be vicious.”
Hann laughed. “Come, lay beside me.”
@syrips Vampentine's 2025 + 2026 mashup!✨
