:Saintsmourn - Valerian & Anton :

[aristopire]

Valerian Ostell's life was fairly busy all things considered.

It was filled with meetings upon meetings, midnight brunches and forays with his best friend Cassandra into the Boston social scene, the world passed by in a whirl for him; was it how he expected his life to have gone? In some situations yes, he had expected he would always go to Harvard Business School, he had always expected he would take over the family business-- that he would take a wife for appearances, and a lover to his own preferences.

What he had not expected was being turned into a vampire at the age of 26, poised forever on the edge.

So some of those things came true, others did not. They were never mutually exclusive, he supposed.

Upon the death of his mother and father, some horrific accident that had been spread throughout the papers (it did not affect him, he had not been to terribly attached to them in the first place. They were largely neglectful as he did not require constant supervision to do what he needed to do, and that was get top grades and make it so his reputation was beyond reproach. No scandal in high school and none whatsoever in college, he was without blemish-- if a bit ruthless.

Ruthlessness was not necessarily a fault when it came to being rich, it was just part of the landscape.

Being a vampire and being a rich boy seemed like a fairly good combination, he knew how to invest his money to watch it grow throughout the adges; he'd cut his teeth on the Dow Jones and had a Swiss Bank account for as long as he could remember. He approached all of his with a calm efficiency that was in keeping with his core personality. Boston was his home turf but there was a part of him that called to Saintsmourn, it was perhaps memories-- he was still human enough where there was that lingering shadow of sentimentality within him.

It did not help that he sat on the Board of Directors for the Prepratory School and University, as his father had before him-- an inherited piece of baggage; ironic due to his vampiric nature though he could walk in churches as he had never been completely catholic in nature-- only catholic insofar as much as it figured that he would turn out gay in a all boy's school.

That was an exceedingly catholic thing to do.

He did enjoy the arts, for all of his practicalities. He had season tickets to the Met, to Broadway, he usually took off for New York Fashion week to cavort with Cassandra, and he sank down money into patronizing the arts in whatever form or fashion it took. If his eyes lingered a bit to long on a certain violinist in the Broadway orchestra, he made no true indication of his preference.

But it was true that Saintsmourn had one of the best choirs in Massachusetts, and he found himself drawn to them. Even as he sat there on the balcony watching the performance, he remembered one who had sung the most enchanting of all of the choir members, who would sneak out to play his violin in the empty gardens at midnight-- perhaps that had truly instilled the love of music within him, of all things beautiful in a world dominated by numbers and analytics.

Underneath his Dior shades, his eyes were closed as if he was feeling the music. His fingers tapping against the armrest lightly-- it was a spot that was reserved specifically for him, a little pocket which was a kickback to the board of directors but which only he untilized for attending a simple choir recital. Most thought it beneath them, but he did not.

But he would never willingly admit that he took time out of his schedule; no-- he was merely in the area.

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[aristopire]

A soft chuckle against those lips, he had forgotten what it felt like to laugh. He was not the laughing sort, but with Anton perhaps it came a little bit easier. If he had a pulse, it likely would've quickened at the touch of mouth against his neck, but that was not to say that there was not keen interest in what Anton was doing and how he wanted him to keep doing it.

"Your voice is lovely and everyone should be lucky to hear you, no doubt they will think they have been graced by a heavenly choir." that was Valerian's insistence that Anton not make himself small for anyone, not even the people in this opera house. He pulled away only as far as it would take to lead Anton back toward his own box.

"Come with me minx, I will give you that pendant back and anything else you desire-- all you need do is name it." he was rich, he could give Anton whatever he wanted. In fact if at this moment Anton demanded a car, he'd have one bought and delivered by the time the Opera was over. But for now, just a necklace broach, that felt like something small and inconsequential, easily granted as far as wishes went.

Once near the door, into the box-- at the hidden alcove-- he lightly pushed Anton up against the door while his mouth fell upon his once again, with one hand he reached for the rope toward the edge to pull the curtain decidedly closed. As much as he would not mind proving himself the alpha in this situation to Martin, there were other times to indulge in a bit of highly prolific cavorting.

He was not shy, and he knew that Anton was not either.

[irrecoverable]

Anton couldn't help the impulse to nip at Valerian's lips at the sound of that laughter, like he wanted to bite it and swallow it down until it was a part of himself. The relief was strangely overwhelming. Did he really care this much about what one single man thought about him? Clearly he very much did, when that man was Valerian Ostell. How the hell had it come to this? A laugh of his own as Val basically encouraged him to throw any caution about the volume of their upcoming activities straight into the wind. This was more than fine with him.

He let himself be led, even if it perhaps was not without difficulty the way that he couldn't stop his hands from roaming, from touching, refusing to break contact with Valerian for even a moment. "Just the pendant. And Italy. And you. The last is entirely non-negotiable." Valerian was the real treasure here, and Anton was fully aware of it. That said he would not complain about being spoiled with fancy, expensive, pretty things. Why would he?

A soft gasp as he was shoved up against the door, but he melted eagerly into the kiss and into the vampire. Honestly he'd forgotten that Mark or whoever existed entirely. Out of sight and so far out of mind when the man in front of him was all that he could possibly think about. It was true neither of them were shy, and if Valerian wanted to prove a point sometime with a deliberate public display, Anton would not be the one to object. In fact he'd encourage it. That was what he wanted, to be possessively and loudly desired, in a way that left no room for doubt in anyone who saw that this lethally sharp blade of a man was his. For now though, he contented himself with reaching up to hook his fingers at the nape of Val's neck and pull him closer, as if there was any space left to close between them.

[aristopire]

The urge to all but devour Anton was hard to ignore, so as his mouth opened against his Anton's, every sharp part of himself could be felt, the teeth scrapping against tongue, the way that he could taste Anton-- and some unnamed part that was not Anton. Oh, he kissed deeper to wipe away all previous kisses, to wipe away all remanants but his lover.

Dim light surrounded them though the music still rose up as if the curtains could not block the folds of it-- he was pushing aside Anton's jacket, was slipping his hand into shirt that was not quite buttoned up.

A soft growl against mouth, something primal while he slipped his hand underneath thigh, against knee and lifted it to encase his hip.

Deliberately, he ground into Anton so that the other man could feel his stiff hard length underneath dress slacks, could feel how much he was unapologetically wanted. "Nothing could keep me away from you tonight, you have every single moment of my time Kitten." He said in between searing heat of his kisses.

Unlike most box seats, this one had a rather comfortable couch so when they did fuck, Anton would find himself pressed into comfortably plush squabs of a red velvet sofa. And Valerian fully intended on fucking Anton until he forgot anything and everything about himself.

[irrecoverable]

Now, of course Anton did not know that Valerian was a vampire, but that probably wouldn't change even a single shred of the fact that he would all too happily be devoured by the other man. He was all too happy to hook his leg over that hip, drawing Valerian closer that way too, anything to feel Val against him, the evidence of that desire as good as a drug.

He heard himself moan softly to Valerian's mouth as their hips ground together, his own prick hard and aching and eagerly needing that pressure, that friction. It took longer than it should have for those words to register, but they did and he couldn't help the smile even in the middle of those molten hot kisses.

"Good. I'm still very mad at you," he lied with a purr in his voice, entirely weak to Valerian and the touches and pet names and promises. His fingers found their way to the buttons to that no doubt designer shirt, working them undone with a deft nimbleness that came with being a musician who made his living with his hands in a very literal sense.

[aristopire]

"If you are still angry at me, then I expect to feel the force of it when we fuck." he murmured, feeling the way that Anton unbuttoned his shirt, leaving his skin quite vulnerable to teeth and claws; the clothing slid to the ground; he was not too entirely worried about the rumpled state of his clothing especially if Anton made a mess of him to begin with. His shoulder-length hair, the hair that could never decide whether it was gold, red, ginger, or brown was already touseling itself unspeakably in response to Anton's ministrations.

Valerian unpinned Anton from the wall but only long enough so that he could manipulate him onto the couch, pushing him back before he took a knee on the couch between where his lover was sprawled. One arm draped over the back, looking as if he was about ready to pounce on his beautiful one.

"You are such a brat... and I am going to systematically take you apart over and over again." he growled in direct response to the purr that lingered in that sexy musicians voice. "And enjoy every single moment of it."

[irrecoverable]

Anton's fingers went exploring as soon as those buttons were seen to, running along skin, along a body that looked like it had been carved by some master hand out of pure alabaster. There was a chill to it that surprised him, but he was only determined to see what he could do to warm Valerian up. "You're so cold, darling. ...physically. I mean, emotionally too, but that's part of your charm, especially when you start to heat up for me..."

He wasn't entirely certain of how he wound up on the couch, but he certainly wasn't complaining in the least, not with Valerian looming above him, looking like he was quite ready to go in for the kill. Anton smiled a smile that had melted hearts on more than one occasion at being called a brat. Well, he wouldn't deny it at least. Instead he lay back into the couch, back arching, arms stretched above his head.

"I'm trying to decide if that's a threat or a promise."

Either way, he liked it. Anton shifted enough that he could stretch one leg up to rest against Valerian's shoulder. He was very flexible, always keeping up with his yoga for that exact reason.

[aristopire]

"I think you are the only one who could warm me up." He murmured, and it was true; he'd had his share of lovers but they all chased what they could get from him, and he gave them a gift for their troubles and then he promptly discarded them-- they had never been Anton, could never ascend the pedestal that he placed the other man on. A throne of gold and rubies, that was his Anton-- though it was also nice the view of Anton sprawled out like this.

Curls riotous on burgundy velvet, those cheekbones and warm sparkling eyes lined with eyeliner.

Fuck, this did not feel fair whatsoever-- considering the awareness he loved Anton more than Anton loved him. Perhaps he did not mind too much though when Anton looked at him like that, like he was something worth spending time with.

Leaning forward to clasp a wrist with his slender fingers, the other reaching between them to massage and knead the outline of prick underneath Anton's trousers-- he was purposely teasing but this time they both knew there would be no sudden stopping, that Anton would find himself fucked like he'd wanted previously.

"You can consider it both, Kitten."

[irrecoverable]

"Good. I never really liked sharing." Anton wanted Valerian to be his, and no one else's. He didn't want there to be any other string of lovers, no matter how disposable they might be. There was a rapacity for him that was possessive and hungry, and he was quite certain he'd burn something down if he couldn't truly have him.

Was Valerian really certain that Anton didn't love him in an all-consuming way? Because Anton rather felt the same, that he was fortunate to have this much of the other man's attention, that he had gone and lost his heart to Valerian, and he'd have to live with the consequences of losing his heart when he'd not been gifted one in return. But it was Valerian. It would be worth the inevitable heartbreak, wouldn't it?

A testing twist of his wrist as those fingers wrapped around it, and he let his head fall back with an impressively musical moan as Val kneaded at his cock, hard and aching already and only growing more so with that attention.

"But I do like it when you call me Kitten..." If anyone else had tried it he'd have likely thrown a fit or put a stop to it immediately. Valerian, as always, as the exception. Because Anton would happily be Valerian's kitten, would arch and purr for him, might occasionally scratch deep enough to draw blood. For now though his claws were retracted, and he was being a very pliant, well-behaved kitty.

His hands slipped down between them, down to find and begin working open the fastenings to Val's trousers, his fingers accidentally grazing the bulge still trapped within that fabric.

[aristopire]

How did Anton do that? Manage to pluck the exact notes out of the aria being sung and harmonize with it to a level that was nearly unprecedented; likely the entire audience was going to leave enchanted thinking that they had attended the best performance in years when really it would be Anton's voice rising and twining with the sound of the prima soprano, linking magic through the music like it was DNA that could be manipulated.

Valerian was caught irregardless, had always been breathless every time that the other man had opened his mouth to sing either on a stage, or sexually like this.

He leaned down then and another searing kiss, teeth lightly scrapping lower lip only hard enough to tease out the faintest hint of copper which his tongue lapped out, he wanted to taste that moan in his mouth.

And all the while Anton was freeing his cock, hard marble that was starting to dribble precome, there was hints of blush to the near inconclastic length as he had fed before coming here-- it was why Valerian was a little bit warmer than he had been at the sacristy. He postively ached for the other man and it showed.

"You are trying to ruin me, Pet." he murmured as he played his next move which happened to be releasing Anton's own prick from it's confines with the hand that had been stroking.

[irrecoverable]

Maybe the single most dangerous thing about Anton Stiendl was the fact that he was entirely unaware of what he was and what he could do. Oh he knew that music was in his blood, could always feel the way something deep in him stirred when caught in the midst of a melody. He knew that he had the tendency to be able to charm nearly everyone he met, or well, at least everyone who heard him play or sing. To a lesser (but still very noticeable degree) anyone that he spoke to. Somewhere along the line, the knowledge of his heritage, of the legacy of the siren creature that had decided to fall in love with one of their victims rather than drown them, had faded from family memory. The power, it seemed, had not -- though it had lain mostly dormant for generations before flaring to life in Anton. Thankfully he felt no compulsion to drown or eat people, so that was good.

Well, okay, maybe he wanted to consume on particular person but only in the extremely carnal way that one could imagine. That was fine, wasn't it? He needed Valerian like he might die if he didn't have him, all of him. He noticed the sharp scrape of those teeth, but only murmured his approval. He finished his short battle against the other man's pants and, without a single iota of hesitation, slipped his hand inside to draw him free, to wrap his fingers around him properly. He let his hand roam, fingers tracing the shape of that hard, no doubt aching cock. He very much wanted to make that ache worse before he made it better. It was only fair. So it was perhaps too light, too teasing a touch to offer much in the way of satisfaction just yet.

"I am, darling. Is it working?" He sounded entirely too smug. This would all likely backfire immediately on him given that when Valerian's hand found his own arousal, it stole the breath from his lungs entirely.

[aristopire]

Think of it as keeping Anton's powers in check, the touch of Val's fingers as he skidded lightly against ridged flesh-- the taut throb of it as it begged and wept prettily against his fingertips, and it was dripping, could feel it. But also? He knew Anton and how he adored to tease and tempt but how it was a different case when the tables turned.

Val was quite sure he could have Anton begging just as prettily-- he was unaware that perhaps he was the only man that could have him in such a state.

"Maybe a little bit.." Val allowed himself that answer as he worked his fingertip around that cockhead-- thankfully he had dispensed with his evening gloves so there was the mercy of his hands. It was easy for Anton to control the situation in other cases, but not with Val-- he would give into the other man when he felt like it and not a moment before. "Do you understand how much it turns me on for you to lay here underneath me while across from us your little Service Dog is completely unaware that I am going to fuck you raw?"

Was it precisely fair that Val's words were whispering against an earlobe, lightly nibbling while his hand tightened softly around the root, guiding his palm upward. "No one will ever be able to fuck you like I do... and I am going to prove it."

And that confidence was a decidedly new addition to Valerian-- perhaps it was the power of his postion or perhaps it was more supernatural reasoning behind it.

[irrecoverable]

Look. Yes, he fully embraced his hypocrisy of being a horrible tease and sulking when he didn't get his way immediately. Though it was very hard to sulk right now when Valerian's teasing was undoing him piece by piece like the other man knew the exact way to drive him as crazy as possible. Or Anton was simply weak to him, in a way that he'd never felt for anyone else.

His hand tightened reflexively around Valerian's prick, a more substantial touch, when the vampire spoke those words, a firmer more deliberate stroke. Fuck but he'd forgotten about Mar-whoever's existence entirely. He heard himself moan, the sound resolving into a quiet whimper. No, no one would ever be able to fuck him like Valerian. He was certain of that already, and fuck the confidence was incredibly sexy.

"Fuck me then, Darling... show me who I belong to. Ruin me for anyone else."

He wasn't asking too much, was he? He just wanted everything that Val had to give.

[aristopire]

Very deliberately Valerian shifted to unhand Anton's wrists for now, enough so that he could reach down and hook his fingers in Anton's trousers, and then pull them down and then up, a delightful thrill at how the other man undulated for him. Then it was cast ceremoniously to the side where it would fall into a heap right next to his own jacket, and then his eyes surveyed the other man with a raise of his brow. "Still not a fan of underwear, I take it."

There was that hitch of his breath even as his gaze followed the trail that led to the nest surrounding Anton's cock, neatly trimmed of course. His eyes were hungry for each angle as if he had been denied for far too long.

There was always that blood hunger for Val but at this moment it twined into something far more carnal. This led him to pushing those legs back, putting his weight against one thigh while his finger moved to Anton's lips. "Suck..."

This was a command, even as his forefinger tapped lightly.

[irrecoverable]

"Mm-mm it just slows me down." Now granted, the underwear he did have was all silks and lace and satin and sluttier than it had any reason to be. He'd introduce Valerian to it sometime, but tonight? Nothing in the way of those eyes or that touch now that his pants were tossed in the direction of the fuck away.

And oh the way that Valerian looked at him was as good as any touch he'd ever felt, to have the other man's attention fixed so fully on him, to see the hunger in that gaze. Of course he didn't know that there was certainly a literal hunger as well as a carnal one, not that it would matter if he did know it. So long as Valerian was looking at him.

He found himself bent near in half, a low moan trembling its way out of him again even as he parted his lips oh so obediently to first let his tongue flick and drag along that finger to guide it past his lips, doing exactly as he was told and sucking at that digit, dark chestnuts eyes fixed on Valerian.

[aristopire]

For a single moment, Anton got the boon of seeing exactly how Valerian was being affected by it, it was the darkening of those grey eyes while he watched tongue dart out to lathe, to suck and still looking at him with challenge beneath those seduction-lidded eyes; his own mouth parted to let out a hissing breath; the obedience was there but there was also a 'come-hither' look, permission to fall into that spell. He swallowed rather visibly and then he sank another finger into that mouth.

Saliva danced across his digits.

And then he leaned in and removed his fingers but only to replace that mouth-- so he could drown in that warm wet heat of lips, diving with tongue and senses while his hands slipped between them and trailing a path between legs, cupping balls for a moment and giving them a squeeze before his fingertips started to play with Anton's hole.

It was just as hungry as he remembered; he had kept it to himself but he had been fascinated by all of Anton and by the fact that Anton allowed him to touch; though he tried not to lose his head over it and he had succeeded for the most part. He was still fascinated, but this time he was going to take freely as well as rise to the challenge. "You have no right being this gorgeous." he murmured against that mouth as he started to stretch Anton out, massaging walls with the first finger.

[irrecoverable]

Always a challenge, because Anton knew that Valerian would rise to it, would surpass it. That had always been true about the other man, that Valerian was not one to back down, was not one to leave anything half-done. It was one of the things that had drawn him in, one of the parts of Valerian that he admired, that he wanted.

Honestly though, he wanted all of him. Maybe that was too much to ask, but Anton had never been shy about his wants and needs and going after them. ...when they weren't just falling at his feet anyway. That did happen. A lot.

He sucked and licked at the fingers in his mouth as if they were something much more phallic, murmuring a wordless, pleased sound as those fingers drew free and began probing at his hole. Anton let his head fall back to welcome that kiss, all invitation and eagerness for more. His next moan as Valerian began working him open was lost to the other man's mouth. His body yielded to the other as if it had been waiting for this moment, waiting for Valerian in particular. Lifting his hands, he let his fingers slip into Val's hair, gripping at thick, soft strands.

A laugh bubbled past his lips. "And what about you? The audacity of being this sexy. It's offensive, Valerie."

[aristopire]

Valerian never thought that he would feel like a schoolboy again, he honestly imagined that he had put that part of his entire life and world behind but when Anton had laughed out the nickname that he'd given him.. Valerie. It did ridiculous things to his unaliving and unpumping heart-- perhaps it was like an unfurling of emotions that centered right there at it's integral core.

He'd never been fond of the nickname 'Val' and the only one who he tolerated calling him was Cassandra, but she never called him this name. That was because it was something so inherently sacred and only for Anton.

The kiss that Anton recieved in response was encompassing, even as he worked in deeper and harder, far more rougher then perhaps he should've been; and that was because he knew that Anton did not need to be treated like something fragile, but also because this man.. belonged with him, at his side.

Stealing that breath from Anton's mouth, allowing the other man to come up from air as he angled for that spot deep inside, angled until he found it-- until he touched it without mercy, pressing his mouth then against an earlobe to murmur. "You are the only one who can call me that, you realize-- my Angel."

The laughter was just as intoxicating as the moans, and so he shifted so that he could put his hips behind the pistoning of his fingertips, to see if he could combine the two in some sort of biological science experiment. He could never tell this beautiful wonder of a man that he was in love with him because he did not want to get his broken, but he could bask in his glow and in his song, could make him come and make him laugh.

[irrecoverable]

This was news to Anton, that this particular nickname was reserved for his use alone. But it was welcome news. God again and again he just wanted to matter to Valerian, to be somehow special to the other man, to be someone to him. It was not something he'd ever spoken out loud, but he knew it was there in him. The years between them, in New York, he'd never forgotten Valerian and what he dreamed they could have been if they'd ever allowed themselves to. It had seemed to be a lost chance.

But here they were, and Anton was pinned beneath Valerian, being finger fucked in a way that made him feel like he was some brand new fumbling virgin for how he couldn't stop the way his voice rose in a low keening plea for more, the way he arched toward it. No, Anton was far from fragile, despite the way he looked, and he liked that rough edge from the other man.

He also liked those words. My Angel. Angel as lovely, but it was the possessive little my that sank straight into his heart. His fingers pulled at Valerian's hair fitfully before he realized he was doing it, but he didn't apologize. Valerian was not fragile either; that had never been clearer. "Good... only me, my Valerie." His. And in this moment at least, only his.

Another (gentler, ish) more deliberate tug of that thick beautiful hair and he arched up against him as best he could given the way the other man had him bent in two. "I need your cock inside me. Now." As if he were in any place to be issuing orders.

[aristopire]

"Now is not proper manners kitten." he spoke this quietly though with an indulgent chuckle right against an earlobe, feeling fingers clench in his hair and yes he was going to give a very deep and insistant scissor with digits that were far stronger that the normal. "Why do we not try that again and this time with what we really say when we want something?"

Oh yes, Valerian was going to enjoy teaching his beautiful musician a lesson and he was starting right now. Most men would give Anton exactly what he wanted with little in the way of a challenge, but the businessman was not like other men-- he knew quite well that Anton secretly wanted someone to take control.

He read it quite clearly in the way that he was acting now.

"Now, be my good slut and ask for what you want, darling, and ask nicely." A third finger inside though Anton was suitably stretched out? It would not hurt to make sure that he was well prepared for the crescendo.

[irrecoverable]

"A...ah!" Anton's voice rose and broke in another cry, singing out in pleasure and lust and frustration as those fingers spread him open all the more, at those infuriatingly arousing words. Valerian had it exactly right though, that this was what he wanted. He wanted someone to take control, to put him in his place. His entire life he'd been handed what he wanted by so many people. But fuck he needed the challenge, needed someone to properly deal with his (extremely bratty and obstinate) submissive side. He needed Valerian.

His beautiful, gorgeous, infuriating, irresistible Valerian. Anton was so hopelessly in love with him, and wasn't that the biggest secret he'd ever kept.

Another whimper, and for a long moment he didn't seem to be able to find his words or even his voice. But he tried again, oh god he tried because he desperately needed to be Valerian's good little slut.

"I want your cock... I need you to fuck me so hard I'll feel it for days. Please... please fuck me." Another sharp cry as he was stretched wider, so good but still not enough, not what he needed. "I need you inside me, my Valerie. I'll do anything. I'll give you anything..." His heart. His soul. His body. All three, neatly wrapped in a bow.

[aristopire]

There was a hum of approval at the other man using his words like that, using 'please' though also a straight shot of desire because Anton was begging for him so sweetly. This man who did not have to beg or plea for anything was doing so for him.

With preternatural quickness, he slipped his hand underneath one pf the cushions to pull out a vial of oil, and then he slid back so that he could uncork it and then drip a generous amount against his prick; immediately the warming properties of it took effect, and he could feel the way that it spread manufactured warmth through his own arousal. Good, he did not want Anton to think that he was fucking an ice cube-- also temperature play was something that was discussed before fucking.

While preparing himself, his grey eyes never left Anton's own, drowning in chestnut as warm and as dark as sin, and he found himself falling in love all over again-- except it was not a wholesome love, no.. it was dark and it was possessive, it was a love that longed for Anton to be irrevocably his.

He pushed Anton's thighs apart and then he settled there with his cock pressed tip teasingly to the hole, just a movement to shallowly work his length in though he fully expected Anton to be pushy and bratty in wanting it right now.

Valerian would allow that.

"There's a good pet for me..." his hand slipped upward to once again catch a wrist, both wrists which he made sure to secure as best as possible. "You are so tight for me, I could easily lose myself in my pretty angel." He praised even as he sank himself slowly in inch by delicious inch.

"And now, I am going to fuck you in time with the music.. and I promise you, I will make it last."

[irrecoverable]

Anton was not in the practice of begging, that much was true. The only person that he had ever begged for was Valerian. The other man was the exception to so many of his rules, had always been, would always be. Oh he was in love too, and that possessive streak was in him as well. He wanted Valerian to be his entirely and completely, and no one else's. But in return, oh he'd belong to Valerian too, in every way that was humanly possible. Some that were beyond human too.

His eyes were fixed on Val as the other man stroked his prick, hunger clear in his eyes. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips. A catch of breath at the first press of that length against him, but apparently Valerian was not done teasing him just yet.

A soft whine that broke off into a full throated moan -- a note that rose and melded with the stirring music from the stage beyond the curtain -- as his wrists were pinned. He was trapped, and it sent a jolt of arousal so white hot it could consume him entirely if he let it.

"Yes... oh god yes I need it..." He shifted one leg to hook around Valerian's hip to try to urge him to give him what he wanted, all of him. "Fuck me. Please..." Back to the pleading, and what slipped past his lips next wasn't something he exactly intended to say out loud. "Please, Daddy..."

[aristopire]

A groan, and that was bourne out of surprise.

Oh, how he realized that he should not be as aroused as he was but here he was. He was so very aroused by the word that uttered from that mouth, and then the look of faint surprise that it had come out-- oh but Anton was beautiful in all ways and when he heard that word he absolutely throbbed with desire. It was a tangible thing, and in response he pushed himself in to that tight hot clench, letting out a hiss as his lover wrapped around him so completely.

He'd not been this close to Anton in quite some time.

This was not a gentle and docile love at all-- this love was a ripping and tearing thing, it would consume the both of them and shatter them completely; he did not want to go gently into it, he wanted to love him with all of his teeth and all of his nails, would love him with those things because that was all he knew how to love with. "You can say that as many times as you wish." he said with a growl, another push before he was injected deep inside, the tip of his cock nudged right against the sensitive nub that directly stimulated Anton to the core.

Well, it appeared that Anton figured out the secret way to get anything he wanted, it was by calling Valerian 'Daddy'.. and wasn't he though? Already buying everything his heart desired and also promising trips to Paris?

[irrecoverable]

It had certainly surprised Anton to hear that moaned word in his own voice. He'd thought he had that particular kink well boxed up and securely buried, but apparently not. It had been summoned forth like Valerian had cast a spell over him, and despite the flush that had spread across his pale features at the realization.

Of course, then he was very immediately rewarded for it, and that was a lesson he would certainly remember. He cried out as Valerian thrust forward and buried his dick inside him. This. This was what he needed. He arched off the couch, wrists still caught in that perhaps shockingly strong hold.

"I..." Words were impossible at the moment, and he could only look up at him with eyes gone wide and hazed with lust and need and pleasure. He clearly did not need gentle, did not want it. He wanted teeth and claws, wanted sharp edges and bruising kisses, wanted to be possessed and taken apart. To hell with anything else but passion, even when that passion left bitemarks and bruises, lingering aches and sharper pain. He wanted it all, if it was Valerian.

His head fell back as Valerian moved inside him, at the way that cock sweetly tormented his prostate. "I've missed you so much. No one's ever felt like you do... I feel so full of you, Daddy." Apparently he was going with it.

[aristopire]

And all Valerian could do was encourage it.

Especially when Anton looked at him with those dusky dark eyes, heavy-lidded with pleasure. He leaned down and then he covered their mouths so that he could taste the weight of those words. Valerian would worship Anton, so completely and thoroughly. There would be fights, oh they would be such monumental fights worthy of any stage, but he would kill anyone who dared hurt this man laying underneath him.

And by hurt, he meant kill.

The kiss was exactly that, there was nothing gentle about it-- as if he could taste Anton with bruising kisses and sharp teeth, all the while he was rocking himself into Anton and not giving the other man an opportunity to adjust. No, he was going to accomodate him right in the here and the now and with no choice in the matter. The kiss said it all, that he missed him-- it was the kiss after a drought of what felt like forever.

And Anton's lips were an oasis in a desert. It would feel almost powerful, but then it was true that the submissive did have the power in the relationship, and while Valerian expected to be obeyed-- it was clear that he would be wrapped around this man's fingertip.