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Kane's nose pressed into Astarion's neck as the vampire dug into his jugular in turn. He smelled like death, sweet and cloying, the oils that he tried to mask it with having long worn away during the heavy events of the day. Kane huffed the scent, savoring it as hot thrills ran through its body. A thin sheen of sweat covered the vampire's skin as he was slowly becoming heated - fed, by Kane's own blood. The smaller elf was seated on its lap as he drank its hot crimson, his slender legs straddling either side of its hips, his ass pressed tight to its ever-insistent arousal. Kane's eyes rolled as those sharp fangs dug in deeper, the pain exquisite. Its own teeth ached with the Urge to bite into Astarion. To rip his pretty, two hundred year old corpse to shreds...
As Kane felt itself become lightheaded, its life beginning to ebb away, its claws dug into Astarion's scalp. A silent warning. It could not lose itself in this again, not with the battle ahead of them.
The vampire pulled back with a huff, sucking air into those hollow lungs. A lingering habit of his, as the undead need not breathe. Astarion's cool tongue lapped over the puncture wounds, and Kane could hear the weak thump of the vampire's invigorated heart, temporarily brought back to life by its own blood. It ached with the Urge to rip it out of Astarion's chest.
"I'm sorry, darling, but you taste divine. So alive," Astarion breathed against Kane's skin, kissing over the puncture wounds in its throat. It brushed its fingers through those soft white curls, gazing into Astarion's pretty crimson eyes that glittered just like the fresh blood on his lips. Then it leaned in to kiss the other elf, tasting its own blood, savoring it, arousal coursing through his body.
Astarion's hips rolled against his, granting delicious friction to its aching cock. But the larger elf stopped his motion with a single hand on his hip, looking into the vampire's eyes. Searching.
Kane had noticed a certain dispassion in Astarion over time. A certain reluctance during intimacy. He hid it well, and its addled mind had some difficulty picking up on it at times. Though Kane was a very lustful creature, it did not enjoy reluctance in its partners, and it had also found itself growing fond of Astarion as time had passed - a fondness that went beyond merely enjoying his looks and its desire to both carnally and viscerally devour his undead flesh. It had grown to care for him.
"What-?" Astarion's voice was full of exasperation. He tended to exaggerate indiscriminately, but there was something else in his voice, that Kane was coming to understand as worry, or perhaps desperation.
"Do you want to have sex?" Kane asked him plainly.
Those red eyes widened, Astarion's expression taken aback. "Of course I do, why else would I do this?"
Kane watched him, its head beginning to ache. His body still pulsed with arousal, and his stomach twisted with hunger. He wanted to eat Astarion. Pop his blood colored eyes from the sockets and swallow them. Would the empty holes in his skull fill with the same hue?
The faintest scent of fear lingered in the air, both enticing and sobering. Astarion was still afraid of him despite all they had shared. The larger elf's blood heated even further with sadistic glee.
"You told me you needed blood for strength. Not for sex," Kane said in a low voice, fighting its Urge, calming its breathing. It would not - could not, kill him. As beautiful and tasty as his corpse would be...
"Well - well of course the blood is for strength," the vampire stammered out, "But the sex is for you, darling - to pay you back." He blinked once, twice, then added, "A gift."
Kane's smooth brow furrowed. Sex was not something that he had ever thought of as an exchange. It didn't seem like something that should have been regarded as one, either.
"I give you my blood because I desire to. Not for anything in return. You fight beautifully, and look beautiful, when you are well fed."
"What-? But... Don't you want to?" The vampire's eyes dropped to the tent in Kane's trousers. It smiled.
"I am often aroused, pretty vampire. I do not need every desire fulfilled, especially if it's not something you wish to do."
It yearned for many things, and indulged many things, but he did not feed every whim. His longing was void-deep, every cell in its body aching with a need for more, to consume everything, to take and take and kill and kill. It needed lines, somewhere, some way. Lines that kept it from razing everything and everyone. At least, for now...
"Well... Is there anything that you do want?" Astarion asked, seeming cowed. It was strange to see the usually inflated vampire look so downcast.
"Let me bite you," the words tumbled from Kane's lips before it could stop them.
Astarion raised an eyebrow at him. "Really-? That's what you want?"
"To taste your flesh? Yes." Its mouth watered at the thought of sinking its teeth into that pale skin. There was more color to it than usual thanks to the fresh feeding, but Astarion was still a corpse, albeit a more lively one.
Astarion watched the other elf for a moment longer. "You're a strange man," he said with a hint of a fanged smile, red eyes dancing with amusement. Pretty.
"You once asked me which person in camp I would bite if I had the chance." Kane hummed. "I do not bluff."
"I also recall you saying you prefer eating flesh to simply tasting blood," Astarion huffed a laugh as he moved the soft fabric of his shirt to expose a very white shoulder, "I'm well aware of your... habits. But do try to exercise restraint, darling."
Kane didn't bother answering - it was too busy shoving its nose against the exposed skin offered so graciously to it. The scent of him was irresistible: death-smell, and the scent of its own blood pooling through those lax veins. Astarion's heart no longer beat, having done its job of spreading the blood about his body. Kane's own, very alive heart sped in its chest, his mouth watering. His fangs breached skin and then bit down firmly, and it felt Astarion's sharp intake of air.
His taste. Blood-starved flesh so recently awoken, colder than the average person's but having come alive with the fuel of its own crimson. Kane wanted to eat him. It wanted so badly to tug apart the old, battered sinews that sat hidden beneath his prim, pretty outward appearance. His taste bore the weight of two hundred years of torment and the sickly sweet additive of such recent bloody luxury, such recent indulgence. It longed to peel all the skin back with his teeth, to expose the person beneath, to gaze upon him fully bared to the world.
No.
Kane came to with his jaws fastened tight to Astarion's flesh, the man on top of him having let out a stranged gasp as he gripped its back. It released its hold and licked at the hurt, the taste of its own crimson mixed with the undead essence of Astarion's insides slowly trickling onto its forked tongues. The scent of blood and the two men's combined arousal filled the tent, drowning out that of the vampire's lingering fear.
"There," Kane said, panting against Astarion's shoulder. "Now, we are even."