FIC: Slipping Under
Title: Slipping Under
Author: Cassie Morgan (badfalcon)
Fandom: RPS - ITBN
Categories: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, Horror, AU, PWP
Rating: PG-13
Verse: A Drop Of Blood (the Vampire!Steve 'verse)
Thanks to: You, for reading. bellasianna as ever, for the beta, handholding, and encouragement. havenward for giving birth to the verse with me
Disclaimer: Steve Carlson & Christian Kane are real people, and the events in this story are just that - fictional, figments of my sick and twisted imagination. Hell, call it a fantasy if it makes you feel better. Whatever. No rumours should be started in regards to any events in these works of fiction. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made out of it. about which)’
Summary: The first time Steve saw Christian, really saw Christian, he was aching to touch him, to taste him, to claim him. But Christian wasn't ready for that... not yet, anyway.
Taking one last look over his shoulder, Christian shook his head - he'd had an uneasy feeling of being followed all evening but there was never anyone there. He pulled the hotel key out of his pocket and pushed the door open, stepped into his room and sighed at the reassuring click of the lock engaging behind him. Kicking off his boots, he pulled his shirt over his head and started a bath running. He grabbed a beer from the mini-bar and frowned, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. Catching a flash of movement from the corner of his eye, he straightened up and spun around, automatically moving to a defensive position, his fists raised. But there was no-one there. His eyes scanned around the room and he forced himself to relax, pushing a hand through his hair and exhaling deeply.
"Going fucking' crazy," he muttered to himself, turning around to pick his beer back up. "Next you'll be wishing that you'll find a certain golden-haired guy..."
"Wish granted," came the growled reply as a hand snatched Christian's bottle from him and he found himself pinned face-first against the wall before he had chance to react, one hand pressed tightly across his mouth.
Christian grunted, his eyes widened and he started to struggle in earnest; twisting, wrestling against the hold on him, trying to push back from the wall, but all he got for it was slammed harder against the wall, one arm twisted up behind his back. A spike of fear, of adrenalin raced through him at the feel of a hard cock pressed against his lower back. He growled low in his throat and tried to drag in a deep breath through his nostrils, desperately trying to use the jolt of adrenalin to free himself but then there was a touch of warm lips to his neck. He knew he should be fighting, should be doing something to free himself, to get the fucker off him but... But the trail of a tongue over his pulsepoint had him going limp and he sagged against the wall, held up only by the hold on him. The hand across his mouth moved but he didn't make any sound more than a soft whimper as lips and tongue dragged up his throat and neck and a low growl in his ear had his cock hardening in his pants, a sudden crash of arousal replacing the tang of fear in his veins. He bit down on his lower lip to stifle a whimper; the lips at his throat twisting up into a smile.
Which is when the hold on him loosened and Christian was able squirm free, take the advantage and pin his assailant against the wall; hands either side of his head, knee pressed hard between his thighs. His eyes widened and his lips parted at the sight of the golden-haired man that had been at his shows. "You..." he breathed, then mentally shook himself. "Who are you?" he demanded.
The golden-haired man simply grinned and surged forward against the grip Christian had on him to cup his face in his hands and kiss him, tongue licking across his lips. "That's not the question you need to be asking me, Christian."
Christian snarled and slammed him back against the wall. "Seems like a pretty good fucking good question to me," he insisted, narrowing his eyes at the look of amusement on the golden-haired man's face. "Fine," He sighed, rolling his eyes, his grip loosening marginally. "Then what is the question I should be asking you?"
Chuckling, the golden-haired man spun them around again, slamming Christian back against the wall, winding him. He fisted his hands in Christian's shirt. "You don't want to be asking 'who' I am, Christian. You want to be asking 'what' I am."
Christian laughed and shook his head, bringing his hands up to push the golden-haired man away; his laughter dying on his lips when he realises how damn strong he was. Another spike of fear shot up his spine and he frowned, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "OK," he said, pleased to note his voice didn't waver. "Ok, so... what are you?"
The golden-haired man pulled back and met Christian's eyes. He grinned widely, showing a pair of sharp, pointed incisors. His fangs. "I'm a vampire," he said simply.
"You're a vampire," Christian echoed, snorting with laughter. "Yeah, of course you are, buddy. And, let me guess, you wanna bite Lindsey McDonald's neck, right?" He continued, explaining to the blond 'vampire' that he understood he was a fan and he appreciated the gesture but hey, vampires aren't real and neither is Lindsey - he's just an actor who was playing a role.
The golden-haired man raised an eyebrow and waited for Christian to stop. "Finished?" he asked, amusement lacing his tone
Christian didn't reply, couldn't reply, had no words. He just stared and nodded.
"Vampires are real, Christian. And no, I don't want to bite Lindsey McDonald's neck. I don't even want to bite your neck," he leaned in and dragged his fangs down Christian's throat; Christian shuddering beneath him. "At least, not yet," he amended. "I want you, Christian. All of you..and when the time is right, you'll want me too."
~El Fin~
Author: Cassie Morgan (badfalcon)
Fandom: RPS - ITBN
Categories: Christian Kane/Steve Carlson, Horror, AU, PWP
Rating: PG-13
Verse: A Drop Of Blood (the Vampire!Steve 'verse)
Thanks to: You, for reading. bellasianna as ever, for the beta, handholding, and encouragement. havenward for giving birth to the verse with me
Disclaimer: Steve Carlson & Christian Kane are real people, and the events in this story are just that - fictional, figments of my sick and twisted imagination. Hell, call it a fantasy if it makes you feel better. Whatever. No rumours should be started in regards to any events in these works of fiction. This story is written purely for entertainment purposes and no money is being made out of it. about which)’
Summary: The first time Steve saw Christian, really saw Christian, he was aching to touch him, to taste him, to claim him. But Christian wasn't ready for that... not yet, anyway.
Taking one last look over his shoulder, Christian shook his head - he'd had an uneasy feeling of being followed all evening but there was never anyone there. He pulled the hotel key out of his pocket and pushed the door open, stepped into his room and sighed at the reassuring click of the lock engaging behind him. Kicking off his boots, he pulled his shirt over his head and started a bath running. He grabbed a beer from the mini-bar and frowned, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling. Catching a flash of movement from the corner of his eye, he straightened up and spun around, automatically moving to a defensive position, his fists raised. But there was no-one there. His eyes scanned around the room and he forced himself to relax, pushing a hand through his hair and exhaling deeply.
"Going fucking' crazy," he muttered to himself, turning around to pick his beer back up. "Next you'll be wishing that you'll find a certain golden-haired guy..."
"Wish granted," came the growled reply as a hand snatched Christian's bottle from him and he found himself pinned face-first against the wall before he had chance to react, one hand pressed tightly across his mouth.
Christian grunted, his eyes widened and he started to struggle in earnest; twisting, wrestling against the hold on him, trying to push back from the wall, but all he got for it was slammed harder against the wall, one arm twisted up behind his back. A spike of fear, of adrenalin raced through him at the feel of a hard cock pressed against his lower back. He growled low in his throat and tried to drag in a deep breath through his nostrils, desperately trying to use the jolt of adrenalin to free himself but then there was a touch of warm lips to his neck. He knew he should be fighting, should be doing something to free himself, to get the fucker off him but... But the trail of a tongue over his pulsepoint had him going limp and he sagged against the wall, held up only by the hold on him. The hand across his mouth moved but he didn't make any sound more than a soft whimper as lips and tongue dragged up his throat and neck and a low growl in his ear had his cock hardening in his pants, a sudden crash of arousal replacing the tang of fear in his veins. He bit down on his lower lip to stifle a whimper; the lips at his throat twisting up into a smile.
Which is when the hold on him loosened and Christian was able squirm free, take the advantage and pin his assailant against the wall; hands either side of his head, knee pressed hard between his thighs. His eyes widened and his lips parted at the sight of the golden-haired man that had been at his shows. "You..." he breathed, then mentally shook himself. "Who are you?" he demanded.
The golden-haired man simply grinned and surged forward against the grip Christian had on him to cup his face in his hands and kiss him, tongue licking across his lips. "That's not the question you need to be asking me, Christian."
Christian snarled and slammed him back against the wall. "Seems like a pretty good fucking good question to me," he insisted, narrowing his eyes at the look of amusement on the golden-haired man's face. "Fine," He sighed, rolling his eyes, his grip loosening marginally. "Then what is the question I should be asking you?"
Chuckling, the golden-haired man spun them around again, slamming Christian back against the wall, winding him. He fisted his hands in Christian's shirt. "You don't want to be asking 'who' I am, Christian. You want to be asking 'what' I am."
Christian laughed and shook his head, bringing his hands up to push the golden-haired man away; his laughter dying on his lips when he realises how damn strong he was. Another spike of fear shot up his spine and he frowned, tongue darting out to wet his lips. "OK," he said, pleased to note his voice didn't waver. "Ok, so... what are you?"
The golden-haired man pulled back and met Christian's eyes. He grinned widely, showing a pair of sharp, pointed incisors. His fangs. "I'm a vampire," he said simply.
"You're a vampire," Christian echoed, snorting with laughter. "Yeah, of course you are, buddy. And, let me guess, you wanna bite Lindsey McDonald's neck, right?" He continued, explaining to the blond 'vampire' that he understood he was a fan and he appreciated the gesture but hey, vampires aren't real and neither is Lindsey - he's just an actor who was playing a role.
The golden-haired man raised an eyebrow and waited for Christian to stop. "Finished?" he asked, amusement lacing his tone
Christian didn't reply, couldn't reply, had no words. He just stared and nodded.
"Vampires are real, Christian. And no, I don't want to bite Lindsey McDonald's neck. I don't even want to bite your neck," he leaned in and dragged his fangs down Christian's throat; Christian shuddering beneath him. "At least, not yet," he amended. "I want you, Christian. All of you..and when the time is right, you'll want me too."
~El Fin~