Charles J. Chrishunds (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
likeagoodson) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
vatheon2012-03-21 08:56 pm
likeagoodson) wrote in vatheon2012-03-21 08:56 pm
Entry tags:
Quality time is defined by sticking my teeth in your skin.
Who: not_heavens_adam & likeagoodson
Where:hobagRayflo's (new) apartment
When: very late [ or very early]; they're vampires, it's dark out.
Style: [ action ]
Status: closed
[ It had started off pleasant—like the reunion he'd always wanted. But now, it's the same again. Their old game of baiting and running and stepping circles around one another until there's nothing left. Charley doesn't know what he should be thinking when he steps inside the apartment, doesn't know what he should do when he finds it empty. He misses coming home to their condo, their place. But things are different now. Very different.
Charley prepares for Master's arrival with determined efficiency.
He removes his jacket and drapes it over the arm of the sofa so that it's out of the way, and he proceeds to roll the sleeves of his shirt up to the elbow. Afterwards, he fills a bowl with water and leaves it to sit, undisturbed, on the nearby table. It's a peculiar, lengthy method of preparation, but the hunger is gnawing at him, making him red around the edges. Charley bites his lip, the pressure of his fangs evident inside his mouth.
And he sits, waiting for him to return. ]
not_heavens_adam & likeagoodsonWhere:
When: very late [ or very early]; they're vampires, it's dark out.
Style: [ action ]
Status: closed
[ It had started off pleasant—like the reunion he'd always wanted. But now, it's the same again. Their old game of baiting and running and stepping circles around one another until there's nothing left. Charley doesn't know what he should be thinking when he steps inside the apartment, doesn't know what he should do when he finds it empty. He misses coming home to their condo, their place. But things are different now. Very different.
Charley prepares for Master's arrival with determined efficiency.
He removes his jacket and drapes it over the arm of the sofa so that it's out of the way, and he proceeds to roll the sleeves of his shirt up to the elbow. Afterwards, he fills a bowl with water and leaves it to sit, undisturbed, on the nearby table. It's a peculiar, lengthy method of preparation, but the hunger is gnawing at him, making him red around the edges. Charley bites his lip, the pressure of his fangs evident inside his mouth.
And he sits, waiting for him to return. ]
no subject
Yes, and I... [ Answering him, voice a little rough even as he slides that hand down the length of Master's side to skim over his hip and slip between them. Charley's fingers graze the belt he wears. ] I haven't decided yet. [ He gives him a hard look before pressing his face against bare skin, between the juncture of neck and shoulder. His fingers jerk at the belt, loosening it so that the buckle is undone. A breath, and he shivers just a little. ]
I don't want to fight you this time.