thenorthman | (no subject)

Entry tags:

kersen,
micheletto

(no subject)

Eric was not having a good day.

He'd noticed that there had been some money missing from the Diamond accounts; someone was stealing from him (and had been stealing from Clarke before that). Someone was going to have to answer for that, and pouring over the books to figure it out (who could he trust with this?) might have given him a headache, if vampires had been prone to them.

And obviously, this had to come up the night he was supposed to meet Kersen's oh so interesting human. Eric had closed the books and pushed them aside when they were shown into his office, and shoved all of that aside to focus on their conversation. Michael Corella worked for Cesare Borgia, and that was a connection worth cultivating.

Things had been going well when someone opened the door to his office without knocking. Jamie - one of his managers - looked surprised to find three pairs of eyes on him, and stopped in the doorway. "I was looking for..." He trailed off, but his eyes had strayed to the books on Eric's desk, before snapping back to Eric. "I'll leave you to your meeting."

"No," Eric said, strolling over to the door to invite the other vampire in with a gesture. "Come in." Jamie had worked for Clarke, too, and Eric closed the door behind him. "Kersen. Do you remember that list of staff you gave me when I took over? The ones I might be able to keep on? Jamie was on it, right?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"You getting tortured for years isn't the better option," Michael replied, and turned away to get himself a bloody drink, despite his better judgment.

Kersen wanted to apologize, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it, not for saving Michael's life.

He'd do it again.

"You've risked your life to save me before," he demanded. "Why is this different?"

"It was my mistake," Michael answered, his back to Kersen as he poured himself a glass of whisky. "My responsibility. You took that away from me."

Kersen stood a little straighter, and actually felt himself getting angry. "I am not going to apologize for saving the life of the man that I - " The word after that fell from his lips, able to stop himself in time.

He reached for the bottle and just took a swig straight from it.

Michael glared at him for a few seconds, then turned away and knocked back a good half of his drink. "Don't ask questions you don't want the answer to."

"You're being ridiculous," Kersen blurted, glaring at him. "But what's done is done. You can be angry at me if you want."

It took a few seconds, but from looking angry, Michael went to letting nothing show. He set his unfinished glass down and headed for the door without a word.

He was leaving? Really?

"Michael, please - " Kersen managed to choke out, and then was behind him, grabbing Michael's wrist.

Michael's reaction was instinctive; he twisted his wrist out of Kersen's grip, moving to back him up against the wall with a hand to his throat.

Kersen gasped in surprise, but made no move to fight Michael off or to get free.

Instead... he slid his arms up, against the wall, opening his body up in an inviting way. Surrender.

Michael glared at him for a few long seconds, then crushed his lips against Kersen's, claiming his mouth in an angry kiss.

The kiss tasted like whiskey and anger. Kersen hooked one leg around Michael, pulling him closer. He wanted to tell him to take what he wanted, to do whatever would make him feel better. He just didn't want him to leave.

Michael let go of Kersen's throat in the middle of that aggressive kiss, sliding his hand down his chest and letting it bunch in the fabric of his top, keeping him close, as close Kersen pressed to him.

Now that Kersen could speak... he begged, "Don't leave." He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts and his sacrifice.

Michael, characteristically, didn't want to talk. He kissed Kersen again as soon as he spoke, hoping that the message was clear enough. Whatever Kersen wanted to say, he could say through actions, rather than words.

Michael would have had trouble admitting it out loud, but it was exactly what he was doing.

He grabbed Kersen's wrists and slammed them against the wall, holding them there as he bit into that kiss. He very clearly wasn't leaving, even as he slid his mouth to bite and lick at Kersen's throat, where his hand had been so recently.

Kersen didn't speak.

He moaned, instead. He submitted. And he grew aroused quickly, rolling his hips against Michael, despite being largely otherwise pinned.

Michael let him shift his hips as much as he wanted, encouraged the way the friction amped things up for both of them - and it only had him tighten his grip on Kersen's wrists as he sucked a (very temporary) mark on what would have been a living person's pulse point.

"Do you want me to fuck you?" Michael asked against Kersen's ear, his voice a rough whisper.

Trying to be good... Kersen still didn't speak. He only nodded. Yes. Yes yes.

Michael let go of one of Kersen's wrists to cup his hard-on instead, just short of painful. "Do you want me to own you?"

A gasp, but still no words. A sharp nod.

At the lack of verbal response, Michael squeezed, crossing that line into painful territory. Not too much, but enough. "Tell me."

Kersen thought that Michael didn't want him to talk, but...

He let out a little groan at the squeeze, and then gasped out, "Take me. Fuck me. Own me. Please, Michael, remind me that you want me, remind me I belong you to you..."

"Remind you," Michael echoed, rolling his hips against Kersen's and tightening his hold on the one wrist he still gripped. He claimed his mouth again, in case the message wasn't clear already, gentling his touch to something pleasurable again, stroking Kersen through his trouses. But then he ended the kiss as abruptly as he had started it, and released the vampire, stepping back. "On the couch," he told him, eyes slightly hooded. "Naked."

Kersen might have hoped for a bed, suggesting this might be drawn out, but on the other hand he was pretty eager himself and also intended to do whatever Michael told him.

He let his arms drop, and kept his gaze on Michael as he removed his clothing, before moving to the couch. He hadn't said how he wanted him so for now he just stood beside it.

Michael was still in the middle of undressing himself, and he told Kersen, "Prep yourself," as he got rid of his boots.