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?"

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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.

Kersen actually wasn't thrilled with that particular demand, since he wanted exactly this so much and yet he knew that what he wanted about it was the intimacy. He wanted Michael touching him, holding him down...

On the other hand, he liked the idea of seeing Michael's face as he watched him.

Kersen had to leave briefly to get a small bottle of lube, and then he came back and sat on the couch, legs spread, first stroking his cock as he looked at Michael.

Michael did not stop undressing as he watched Kersen, his gaze its usual intense self as it dropped to Kersen's hand on his cock, then looked up the length of his body to meet his eyes. The flick of an eyebrow was the only challenge to what Kersen was doing - touching himself, rather than prepping himself - because he trusted Kersen to get on with it.

It took only a moment for Kersen's cock to get hard, and then he spread lube on his fingers and spread his legs so that he could push them inside himself.

Once he was naked, Michael walked over to Kersen and crouched in front of him, curling his fingers around one of his ankles. "How does it feel?" he asked, holding Kersen's gaze. "How do you feel?"

There were a lot of levels on which Kersen could have answered that question, but he went with, breathlessly, "I feel like I wish you were touching me..."

It hadn't been what Michael had been asking, and he was certain that Kersen knew it, but after a few seconds, he decided against making a thing of it. "How much?" he asked instead, firming his hold on Kersen's ankle.

"I...a lot..." Kersen met his eyes as he twisted two fingers inside himself. "What do you want to hear?"

"What do you want to say?" Michael answered without missing a beat, closing his second hand around Kersen's other ankle, thumb stroking the soft skin on its inside.

Kersen gasped a little, as he stretched himself. This act was always very open, slightly uncomfortable... vulnerable. Which he thought was the point.

"You wanted me vulnerable," he murmured. "It worked. And I want your control. Tell me what to do, or touch me yourself..."