don't tease me ; lu & il — drabble; [NSFW]
» : a future event my character would like to happen with them + yours [a daydream]
A sigh passes his lips when Ilya pulls back; when he's released and the high from the bite starts to slowly diminish. Fall into oblivion. It does leave him quite drained and he falls back against the sofa cushions without a single word. He doesn't even look at Ilya this time, rather avoiding it for once. It's strange, the sensation lingering in his veins isn't as thrilling anymore. Maybe it is because things are always the same like this. At least lately. So he sighs, covers his eyes with his hand and he can feel the weight of soft cushions shift as the vampire rises to go do... whatever he has to do. Luka is too lazy to even ask.
If he could only turn back around....
Luka mused to himself, silently.
A brief moment of silent breathing is all that passes, before Ilya actually does turn around and he observes Luka with his silvery hues. The latter swallows and he blinks a few times. It's surprising, that little gleam in his eyes that the mortal recognizes. But he has rarely seen it when they're like this, when distanced and it has him wondering. At least for a moment, but not very long. For the vampire isn't slow with his approach and Luka knows better than to be unresponsive. He doesn't want to be unresponsive. Because there's little he can crave in the same manner he craves Ilya's touch.
He's still sitting ( half lying to be honest ) but the closer Ilya gets, the more he straightens himself and he stands up a moment later. Hands grasp for his hips and he's tugged closer, thudding against the vampire's chest and he gasps, unprepared for the spreading sensations of warmth through his entire body. But he wants it, he wants it to badly and judged by the way the elder smirks at him, he knows. There's no need for real gentleness like this, Luka can take a lot more than he looks capable of, something they've both grown to learn. He has pushed his own limits a lot lately and perhaps that's the reason to why he complies so diligently, when Ilya guides him to straddle his thighs. He hasn't really come down from the high of the bite yet and the lingering haze in his mind, the lingering envelopment of bliss, it only serves him right in this situation and when he's properly placed, he grins almost impishly.
The way Ilya's fingers trail over his neck and his collarbones lines his skin with goosebumps and when his chin is grasped, more than a little roughly, he sighs contently into the kiss he's graced with. The way teeth drags over the sensitive skin, how they tease him enough to make his fingers splay over broad shoulders as hands squeeze his hips tightly enough to leave bruises. It makes his senses spark with fire and he presses closer in a silent demand for more. He doesn't know wether he's imagining it or not, but he thinks he can hear Ilya chuckle for that sliver of a second when he pulls back. Luka is panting, his eyelids fluttering open as their features linger only millimeters away from one another's and there's a moment of silent, desirable tension. When their gazes meet and there's no doubt that their need for this is equal and in all honesty, the younger of the two is relieved. He's kept away from others, like he has been told to and he's done so without questioning. He's kept himself away from what he considers regular indulgences and it's been a bit of s strain.
Open-mouthed kisses along his neck has him moaning and he tips his head to the side to allow the vampire more room, lips brushing past the recent puncture wounds and he shudders ever so lightly. It's a good reminder, and his fingers curl into Ilya's hair, tugging gently at it and earning him a muffled grunt. His heart is racing and his arousal isn't exactly discrete, a slight roll of slim hips and he knows he's not alone; he's not the only one on the verge of aching. So he tends to it, pulls back with another little grin upon his lips. He slips off of the vampire's lap, pops the button of his jeans open and tugging the zipper down with ease. He parts the fabric without trouble, without hesitation and he tugs at it gently, to bring it down along Ilya's thighs and he licks his lips at the sight of his protruding bulge.
To say he's eager would almost be an understatement and when he grips the vampire's thighs to keep himself in place, when he crawls a bit closer, he's constantly smirking. Because this will be a first. For the two of them at least and in all honesty, it's not like Luka hasn't imagined doing this. He mouths his way along the outline of the elder's cock, licks along the fabric as he keeps his eyes by the other's features and he can feel his thighs tensing from time to time, see how his expression changes and Luka loves every bit of it, basks in the way he makes the elder react. It's as pleasing as anything, really. He moves up, he caresses along the inside of Ilya's thighs and he tugs at the hem of his underwear with his teeth, bringing them further and further down, tantalizingly slow with his motions as he bares the male's length, centimeter by centimeter. Luka is pleased with the sight, he revels in it like he has done before and as soon as the vampire's underwear reaches his thighs, the mortal uses his hands to tug them down the rest of the way. Delay is unacceptable to him and the air almost vibrates around him as he moves back up, trailing a few wet kisses down the elder's abdomen. His muscles contract at the touch of damp warmth, and Luka dares himself to perform a light nip, chuckling as he pulls back for a moment; a few simple seconds.
He watches Ilya breathe, watches his lips remain parted and the sight is beautifully mesmerizing, better than imagined. Usually, Luka is on the receiving end, Ilya will be his first exception to this little established rule. His breath ghosts over sensitive skin, he grins, eyes glinting with playfulness before he lets his tongue trail up along the elder's length properly and dear god... it feels good already. His tongue presses flat against the underside of the vampire's cock and he uses his right hand for support while the left one squeezes around the base. He trails his tongue up towards the head, he dips the pink muscle into Ilya's slit and he enjoys his taste. He lets his damp muscle circle around the crown for a few seconds before his lips part, only to wrap around the proudly standing erection before him. The vampire groans and Luka takes a lot of pride in making him feel something, even if it isn't much.
The bobbing of his head stars out slow, teasing of course, only to pick up pace a little bit more as he goes on, encouraged by the way the older male's fingers curl into his hair. How his hips rocks just slightly up against Luka's features. It brings him to grasp for lean hips, to push Ilya down even though he knows he isn't really the dominant one in this relationship. But he can't deny that the little sense of control he has like this turns him on; reminds him of his own neglected length tucked away beneath layers of denim and wool. But he ignores it, because it isn't time yet and he'll wait for as long as it takes. He takes the elder in further, he hollows his cheeks and he sucks properly, swallowing around him before he moans, another tactic to tease and he earns himself another sweet sound from Ilya's lips.
He would have been naïve if he thought this would go on forever, if the vampire would be patient with him like this. Of course he isn't. The next time Luka pulls back, Ilya uses his little moment of advantage to move, to pin Luka down against the soft sofa cushions and hover above him with an almost mischievous smirk decorating addictive lips, and all the younger can do is grin in return. His hands smooth over the taller male's shoulders, over the fabric that still lingers and he's itching to get it off, just as much as Ilya seems to itch to get Luka's clothes off as well. It's memorable, the way the vampire's eyes trail down along his body and how his fingers are working his pants open without a single second of delay. He's ridded of every single piece of clothing in less than three minutes and the last piece of fabric falls of Ilya's shoulders accordingly. Fuck. He's deliciously beautiful and it never fails to keep Luka astonished for several seconds. His body is perfection, flawless and so admirable. Luka's own is scarred in several places and sometimes it does leave him feeling a bit insecure around the elder. Not much though, and especially not when the only thing he can think of is how every touch the vampire graces him with feels so fucking good.
There's barely any time for him to react before hands skim down his bared skin, before his breathing hitches as Ilya spreads his legs. The mortal is panting, body squirming in anticipation and when the vampire holds his fingers out for him, he does get the hint quicker than he ever has before. He sucks the digits into his mouth, he trails his tongue over each one of them, coating them in saliva until Ilya retracts them. Luka stills, lets the vampire handle his body in whatever way he wants and when the first digit is pushed pas his ring of muscle, he bites back a moan. The second makes his back arch prettily and the third has him quivering as the elder works him open without hesitation. Luka whines when he pulls his fingers out, his chest rising and falling quickly as he gasps for air, as his eyes linger by the elder as he props himself up on his elbows.
He waits and he anticipates and his skin rises in goosebumps when the vampire lines himself, when he prepares. His moan is choked when Ilya pushes inside, because it isn't slow and the stretch burns just a bit; pains him enough to squirm but fuck... he loves it. And he loves the way the elder doesn't wait for him to adjust, doesn't wait for any sort of consent before he begins to move. The pace isn't slow, it isn't gentle. It's rough and quick and it sends waves of pleasuring warmth through his entire system, makes him moan over and over as he seeks purchase upon a pale back. his nails dig into skin, body rocking in pace with every performed thrust and it's in these moments he knows. Luka knows he belongs entirely to Ilya and he probably always will. He moans his name over and over and he appreciates every little sound the vampire makes, treasures them as well as he can. His mind is a complete mess, sweat clinging to his brow and his swollen lips remaining parted as he scrunches his eyes shut. He feels as if he's falling apart, as if he's splitting in half and as Ilya pushes his hips down, gripping on spots where he's already sore, he can't help his own whimpering. He's close, so close...
He flinches, eyes wide open as he tries to locate the sound of Ilya's voice. He doesn't know where it's coming from and it's distressing. Then he remembers his little daydreaming and his cheeks grow red in less than a second. It's not the only part of him that has been affected, of course not and he rolls over to rest on his stomach instead, desperate to hide himself. Because he's embarrassed and it's fucking dumb. So he doesn't respond and soon enough, the vampire emerges from the kitchen with a quirked brow. " How many times have I told you to answer when I call your name? " The elder questions and he shoots the younger a look that speaks of inquiry, and perhaps a bit of disappointment. " Sorry. " Luka then mutters and buries his face in one of the pillows, sighing.
Why can't anything ever be true?
romaincrisis
stormborns
origamiaround
gummygunk
jacobvanloon
dededos
tangentwithtanner
yousharknotpass
