: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.

Comments

[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.

[irrecoverable]

Oh they'd break glasses and throw things, undoubtedly, but Anton was quite certain that the make up sex would be worth it. He was finding that out right here and right now. His eyes fell shut as his mouth was claimed so thoroughly by that kiss. He forgot every unimportant detail -- like the fact that he probably ought to breathe -- except for how Valerian felt, against him and inside him and above him.

Anton voiced another needing sound that was swallowed whole by that kiss, feeling the way that Valerian was taking what he wanted from him, taking exactly what Anton wanted to give. This was what he needed, to be kissed and touched and fucked like Valerian would die if he didn't have him, like he wanted him to the point of madness, like the desire might consume him if it weren't sated.

Was it so wrong to want that? When that was how Anton felt for Valerian as well? He'd been doomed since the moment their paths had crossed in their youth, and now he'd leapt straight back over that cliff back to Valerian.

[aristopire]

It was absolute and utter perfection, the way that Anton felt squeezing around him. Oh yes, this was exactly what he wanted, and what he had been missing in all of his encounters. Others were lukewarm, tepid while this man was like a very force of nature as he threatened to undo every single thing that he had grown used to.

He pulled back but only so that he could thrust deeply, firmly inside. His hips pistoning as he kept Anton's wrists held so that the other man could not do anything except for react as he moaned sweetly; already the hushed that came over the audience below, he was sure the held breath was because of those singularly sweet notes that came from Anton. There was possession in his eyes, the way that he gripped that wrist, the heavy breathing against Anton's mouth.

In such situations, he was usually only intent on slaking his own hunger, but oh he was lost in this aspect of it too-- could almost ignore the hum of blood rushing through Anton's veins for the pleasure that filtered through him.

Almost.

He whispered against that mouth. "You make the sweetest sounds, Pet-- everyone is enraptured by you.. as they should be, because they are listening to an Angel sing right now." and he was not talking about the Opera, of course not. "You are the only one I have ever felt would consume me if I allowed you to."

[irrecoverable]

Another cry, louder than before, louder than intended really, but Anton had lost any conscious awareness of where he was and who may here, and fuck it, it didn't matter anyway. The only thing that mattered was Valerian, was the pleasure that the other man was giving him with each touch and taste and each word that fell from those beautiful lips. His back arched again as Valerian buried himself inside him, as if the force of it nearly had him levitating from the couch.

He could feel the pleasure building, an insistent pressure that seemed to blossom brighter and more vibrantly with each roll of Valerian's hips to his ass, of each plunge of his cock inside.

"Would...will you let me, my Valerie?" Because he wanted to, to consume him, to possess him, and oh to belong to him completely.

[aristopire]

Valerian's own knowledge of Anton was that he usually did not care what other people thought, but he was so enticingly charming about it that people usually allowed him to do exactly what he wanted. Oh the Priests that would've fallen if but a crook of Anton's fingers, so many hearts broken and so many lives destroyed because everyone would've died for but a crumb of attention from this man.

Each curve of that back upward off the couch sent Valerian still even deeper into the other man, nearly rending him in two with the impact. He could feel each spasm, each way that the other man begged for him deeper.

Valerian could go no further and yet there was that desire to try.

"You are consuming me right now, my Angel.." he whispered, leaning in. He released the wrists so that he could slip his hand underneath Anton's neck, fingers curling in hair and then he bit lightly at the lower lip, scraping his teeth. The hunger was starting to rear it's head, and the throb of Anton around him, the heart that was pumping all the more fast with the exertions of their bodies. "Can you not feel how I ache for you? How this is not close nor deep enough for me?" open mouthed against Anton's lips.

"A mutual devouring.... that is what I want."

[irrecoverable]

Once his wrists were freed, Anton immediately moved to touch Valerian, hands running up the other man's chest, greedily splaying over skin, up and around to wrap his arms around him, holding and clinging to him as if the rest of the world was shattering around them. Let it shatter for all Anton cared. All he needed was Valerian.

He gasped, breathless and overwhelmed but fully swept up in what Valerian was saying, in those perfect, thrilling words. He felt the scrape of those teeth, purred his approval of it, of all of this. Sex had always been fun, an enjoyable distraction, pleasurable and a decent way to pass the time. That wasn't how it was with Valerian though, instead if felt like he lost some piece of himself to the other man with each encounter -- but he gained something too, irrevocably changed by each moment spent entwined with one another.

"It's what I want too. I crave you, Valerian. I want... I want all of you, every piece, every inch. I want you to be mine." He curled his nails against Val's back, dragging them down skin, scratching though not quite hard enough to draw blood. "All mine." No one else's. "And I want to be yours."

[aristopire]

This was not how functional, well-adjusted people expressed themselves but for both Valerian and Anton, this was how they said they loved each other, through nails and teeth-- it was a violent sharp thing that they felt, nearly cannibalistic in nature, as if they could devour and consume the very essence of each other.

Those words made him understand that he had to try, and as his fingers curled in those curls of dark, he did with his hips pumping and waging a further war against that pleasurable spot lodged deep within. He shifted to open hid mouth against that neck-pulse, murmuring against it with the vibrations of his words.

"I hunger for you, and I will never truly be satisfied by anyone but you." The depths of his obsession knew no bounds, he realized this and he was prepared to sink into it. "I have seen you with so many useless people and wanted it to be myself." He scrapped his teeth against Anton as he rocked into him with no mercy whatsoever, launching such an assault.

"Are you going to come for me, Pet?" His fingers tightened in those locks of hair and he pulled back lightly to bare that neck even further.

[irrecoverable]

They matched in their dysfunction, at least, their sharp and jagged broken edges aligning perfectly with one another, spilled blood and all. Anton was almost mindless at the moment, each thrust shaking his thoughts loose and making certain that the only thing he could hold in his mind for more than an instant was Valerian and how desperately he needed him.

His own obsession was deep as well and enduring, and he wanted to burrow his way inside Valerian and live there. Hearing Val tell him those things, that he'd been watched and noticed, that Valerian wanted to be with him. "None of them were you... and I wanted them to be you. Every one, every time."

As if he could possibly hold back any longer when Valerian asked that question. "I..." His voice broke as his hair was tightened, as his head fell back at the pressure and he bared his throat to the man he did not know was quite literally a creature of the night, a predator. Even if he knew, it wouldn't have changed a thing. He came then, hard, with a cry, his voice breaking on an attempt at his name.

[aristopire]

It did much for his ego that Anton came on such command for him, but he thought in a state almost near mindless that it was probably the fingers in the hair; he could sense that Anton craved such treatment-- a manhandling like this. And he did so, his mouth opening against the flutter of pulse at neck and then after his tongue dragged against flesh, he bit down into supple flesh, and then he tasted the other man and ecstasy infused him.

Mind blown with pleasure, he came hard and fast right into that tight clenching hole and the creamy splash of crimson was that catalyst, and he drank of that honeyed blood. Oh he'd had but a hint of it in the sacristy but this taste was full-bodied and sweet, a sweet singing hum as it waltzed across his senses.

He moaned before he willed his teeth to slip from their neck-cozy, so that he could lap out that which flowed as if it could be enough, and he sucked hard and in such a way that there would be a mark there that was noticeable to anyone who caught sight of him out and about. He continued his slow thrusting though, feeling the seed splash against his own stomach, making sure that his lover was spent and satiated.

A soft purr then as he pressed a kiss against the spot that he had worked, tasting cinnamon spiced copper; a smile against skin as he remembered those words that had brought about his own orgasm, alongside the river of blood-- that none of them could be him. "None of them were you, no one could ever be you-- your soul is a music that mine own craves. Do you know how many times I have come here to be alone, and to listen to the music and think of you?"

He settles down atop Anton like a warm blanket and he is warm with the spiced blood running through him-- extra heat and perhaps that was the siren's blood within Anton that does that, he does not know but it is.

[irrecoverable]

Anton would be a good and obedient pet (sometimes) for one person and one person only, and that person was fucking the life out of him, pinning him to the couch while he lost himself in the rush of his orgasm. He was so caught up in the wash of pleasure that he hardly noticed when those teeth at his neck pierced skin. He did, however, notice the sudden added flood of ecstasy as he was fed from. He had no idea where it came from, and he didn't care.

He clung more tightly to Valerian, fingernails digging into that alabaster skin. He gasped for breath, vision gone into nothing but a field of stars that weren't truly there, his own personal universe expanding and contracting as he felt Valerian fill him with his seed. And then oh the weight of the other man atop him was perfect, grounding and warm and exactly what ne needed.

His hands relaxed their grip, moving in a soothing gesture. He turned to nuzzle his way against Valerian's jaw, leaving a kiss there. "How many times, Valerie? Tell me..."

[aristopire]

"Thousands..."

He murmured softly as he was also experiencing his own high from the pleasure that drifted through him, singing through the hallow caverns of his veins and painting life there where normally it was empty. He felt full for once, and quite happy to drift into the lull of post-feeding, his fingers stroking lightly through Anton's curls before he twirled a particularly rebellious one right around his fingertips.

He shifted so that he was only halfway on top of the other man, one leg thrown against the other, and at a spot where he could burrow his face against the skin of neck to inhale the scent of their mingled sex. He never took lovers to the Opera or to the Theatre, as if that could mar his thoughts of music and how they were tied inexplicably with Anton, with his musical voice and the violin playing.

It would've felt like a travesty, a blasphemy.

"Though I have never counted the times, they have been numerous-- My Angel..."

[irrecoverable]

"Too many..." Anton murmured, voice soft and almost dreamlike. God it felt like a dream, like he was floating unbound from gravity. It was only Valerian keeping him here on the earth at all, and that was reason enough to stay bound to the ground. He shut his eyes, humming softly. "Think of me and be with me."

No more nights alone at the opera. They could make their own music, sweeter and more melodious than any opera composer could truly hope to capture on sheet music. "I have had a taste of you again and I am not inclined to give it up again. Regret doesn't suit me. I don't like it."

And he had too much regret on things that could have been with Valerian, and they have distilled down into something potent and strong and intoxicatingly dangerous. "Don't be my regret."