(no subject)
TITLE: Dance of Death - Obligatto
RATING: R
FANDOMS: Taniec Vampirow/Elisabeth
CHAPTERS: Prelude, Nocturne, Pastorale, Elegy and this chapter.
SUMMARY: Death continues to watch over the von Krolock clan.
PAIRINGS: Implications of Death/Herbert
WORDS: 1560
NOTES: Um. Yes. Well. Herbert is a boy of stubborn and interesting tastes.
WARNING: Breathplay and death.
_________________________
The boy was stubborn.
Death watched from the shadows, amusement curving his lips. He was always willing to appreciate a master craftsman at work. Some deaths did not warrant his full attention, but the boy ensured that he could not ignore them.
After nineteen years of ruthless and experienced mortality, it seemed that a half-death was more than beneficial for the boy. He could find prey regardless, his beauty and charm luring more to their violent ends than Death cared to recollect.
His victim of choice was as always young and strikingly handsome. This one, however, seemed more willing than many others had. Despite the bonds that stretched his arms out, he was arching his neck towards the von Krolock boy’s hands.
Herbert’s fingers were fastened about the youth’s slender neck, just enough to hold him on the brink of consciousness, yet loose enough that they would not yet be fatal. He knew his moments. He had practised and played and tested every manner of death that would summon the Master of that domain to him.
Straddling his plaything’s thighs, his hands lost in capacious sleeves, the vampire panted needlessly against the unfortunate youth’s mouth. His eyes were dark with focus and hunger and he rocked his hips in syncopated rhythm with the youth beneath him.
The youth whimpered, his fingers grasping at air, his lips parted and eyes half-closed. He was shaking, but only from desire. There was no fear in this one, not yet, and the vampire had hardly even begun to lead the game to the final moment.
One of the pale hands dragged up his throat, pressing long fingers to the youth’s shivering lips, and the vampire’s other hand dropped down to retrieve a long, exquisite sash from his waist, the colours vivid and garish, yet entirely him.
Sliding his fingers along the youth’s cheekbone, he brought his mouth against the mortal boy’s, his other hand drawing the rich cloth up. The vampire draped it loosely around the youth’s neck while he was distracted by the ever-deepening kisses that were pressing him back against the headboard of the bed.
Capturing the tasselled ends in one hand, Herbert slowly started to draw on the cloth, his eyes hooded, as his lips utterly possessed the boy’s mouth. Death’s eyes slipped from the kissing lips to the cloth drawing tighter and tighter by degrees about the boy’s throat. Beneath Herbert’s body, his hips were jerking wantonly, and the vampire shivered pleasantly.
“Mein Herr…” the youth whimpered against the vampire’s lips, then yelped as his head was tugged back.
“Hush, little one,” the vampire whispered, kissing his jaw and chin. The boy shuddered, his eyes rolling, and Herbert slowly and deliberately twisted his hand into the long strip of cloth before the boy’s chest.
A weak gasp fell from the boy’s lips and Death flexed unseen fingers at the sight of the cloth biting into the youth’s throat. His young body was tense, on the very edge of hunger and madness and want, and Herbert played him as a Master musician would an instrument.
Drawing his hand from the boy’s dark, sweat-sodden hair, Herbert traced his fingertips down the youth’s body in a sensuous pattern that made the boy’s already ragged breaths become even weaker and more rapid.
And even as he did so, his other hand continued to twist into the sash, gradually drawing it tighter, until his fist was entirely bound in the rich fabric. It was pressed close beneath the boy’s throat as his other hand moved on the youth’s body.
The boy’s face was flushed from want and breathlessness, his dark lashes falling against his cheekbones, and the vampire was watching him, his grey eyes gleaming, the tip of his tongue visible between his teeth.
The vampire’s golden head rolled back when hands touched his hips, slipping over to smooth against his thighs. “You have my attention,” Death murmured. His usual melancholy garb had been forgotten and flesh pressed to immortal flesh.
Uttering a sound that was part moan, part purr, Herbert arched his head back, pressing against Death’s chest. “I’ve been waiting,” he whispered, tilting his face towards Death’s, his lips grazing Death’s jaw softly.
Neither of them paid heed to the stifled whimper from the boy before them as Death let the vampire youth’s mouth meet his possessively, hungrily, as one who has been starved for the seven decades of half-death.
Letting his hands move, Death pressed against Herbert’s back, lifting the back of his shirt, until their bodies were so near that the vampire’s chill and his own were so closely united that it was impossible to tell the one from the other.
With a roll of his hips, he drew a groan from the young vampire, slim hips rising beneath his hands, rocking and in turn pressing against the hips of the boy beneath them, whose feeble twitches went unnoticed.
Sliding his palms over Herbert’s hips once more, Death caressed the smooth plane of flesh between hip and groin, kneading thighs, then slipping beneath the low-slung ruffles of the vampire’s oversized shirt, his hands deftly seeking and touching.
His tremor of pleasure was repeated in the mortal beneath them and Death growled softly against the vampire’s throat, one hand splaying on Herbert’s belly, holding him still while his other hand moved and his hips slowly, lazily, shifted.
Herbert’s head fell back against Death’s shoulder, his hands flexing around the sash that was clutched between his fingers. Breathless sounds of satisfaction tripped from his lips, his hips quivering under Death’s ministrations. Pained gasps were escaping the boy before them and Death drew his lips from the vampire youth’s throat to turn pale eyes to those of the boy trapped before them, whose death was holding him close.
Glazed with desire, his face darkened with blood, the boy’s eyes went wide at the sight of Death, who smiled, reaching around the vampire to pull the unfortunate youth’s mouth against his, as he drove himself hard and fast against Herbert.
The boy’s cry was cut off by a savage crack as Herbert’s hands jerked against the sash as the vampire came apart before Death.
Tasting the mortal’s end and releasing the boy’s head, letting it loll at a strange angle, Death touched his own tongue to his lower lip. A sound of pleasure escaped him, his hips sliding against Herbert’s body.
Moments later, spent as the vampire was, Death held Herbert close to his chest.
“You waited, hmm?”
“Mm.” Herbert tilted his head to claim a kiss, whining indignantly when it was denied. It turned into a dangerous growl when Death’s hand fisted into his pampered hair, pulling his head back mercilessly.
“You are a spoiled little brat, Master von Krolock,” Death whispered silkily against the vampire’s jaw.
“Often been said,” Herbert half-hissed the words, untangling his hands from the sash to reach back and grasp Death’s hips, holding the immortal being hard against his body, his own hips shifting wantonly.
“And you always get what you want, I suppose?” Death dragged his tongue up Herbert’s throat.
Herbert’s throat shifted as he laughed. “Eventually,” he purred. His head lifted as Death’s teeth grazed his throat and he shuddered pleasantly. “Seventy years… I have to admit I was losing patience…”
“Stubborn brat,” Death murmured with a chuckle. “This one was exceptional.”
He felt the vampire’s eyes slant down towards him. “Only this one?”
“A dozen near deaths with one boy?” Death granted Herbert a brief kiss, one finger uncurling from Herbert’s hair to trace the nape of the vampire’s pale neck. “That takes a skill the likes of which few can manage.”
“I knew you were watching!” Grey eyes were bright with triumph, which did not fade even when Death tensed his hand in the young vampire’s hair. Twisting in Death’s arms, his body shifting, he pressed his palms against Death’s shoulders, his fangs bared as he grinned.
Death raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps.”
Herbert only laughed and launched himself forward, tumbling them both on the crumpled sheets and blankets, fighting for purchase as aggressively as Death as he was flipped over and pinned down.
“Oh, I adore you, darling!” he exulted, pulling Death’s mouth onto his. His legs were wrapped around Death’s hips, his hands sinking into Death’s hair and he laughed again, his eyes alight. “So full of resistance and denial.”
That alone made Death pull back. “I have succumbed once,” he murmured. “This will be the last time.”
“Until I can find you, darling,” Herbert wriggled enticingly, his pale lips curling in a childish pout. “You keep on hiding from me, mein Herr.”
“Look if you will,” Death whispered against those pouting lips. “But you will never find me, little boy.”
Over Herbert’s body, Death allowed his to fade into his own realm, leaving Herbert’s body wound round nothing more than air and shadows. His limbs sank and he closed his eyes, arching as if caressed by an invisible presence.
“A challenge, mein Herr?” he whispered, running his hands down his bare chest and further still. His body curved magnificently and Death’s hand mimicked the path of the young vampire’s. “So be it.” His body moved, arching and shifting wantonly. “I will find you if it takes me eternity.”
And under Death’s eyes and his own hand, he brought himself to pieces once more.
RATING: R
FANDOMS: Taniec Vampirow/Elisabeth
CHAPTERS: Prelude, Nocturne, Pastorale, Elegy and this chapter.
SUMMARY: Death continues to watch over the von Krolock clan.
PAIRINGS: Implications of Death/Herbert
WORDS: 1560
NOTES: Um. Yes. Well. Herbert is a boy of stubborn and interesting tastes.
WARNING: Breathplay and death.
_________________________
The boy was stubborn.
Death watched from the shadows, amusement curving his lips. He was always willing to appreciate a master craftsman at work. Some deaths did not warrant his full attention, but the boy ensured that he could not ignore them.
After nineteen years of ruthless and experienced mortality, it seemed that a half-death was more than beneficial for the boy. He could find prey regardless, his beauty and charm luring more to their violent ends than Death cared to recollect.
His victim of choice was as always young and strikingly handsome. This one, however, seemed more willing than many others had. Despite the bonds that stretched his arms out, he was arching his neck towards the von Krolock boy’s hands.
Herbert’s fingers were fastened about the youth’s slender neck, just enough to hold him on the brink of consciousness, yet loose enough that they would not yet be fatal. He knew his moments. He had practised and played and tested every manner of death that would summon the Master of that domain to him.
Straddling his plaything’s thighs, his hands lost in capacious sleeves, the vampire panted needlessly against the unfortunate youth’s mouth. His eyes were dark with focus and hunger and he rocked his hips in syncopated rhythm with the youth beneath him.
The youth whimpered, his fingers grasping at air, his lips parted and eyes half-closed. He was shaking, but only from desire. There was no fear in this one, not yet, and the vampire had hardly even begun to lead the game to the final moment.
One of the pale hands dragged up his throat, pressing long fingers to the youth’s shivering lips, and the vampire’s other hand dropped down to retrieve a long, exquisite sash from his waist, the colours vivid and garish, yet entirely him.
Sliding his fingers along the youth’s cheekbone, he brought his mouth against the mortal boy’s, his other hand drawing the rich cloth up. The vampire draped it loosely around the youth’s neck while he was distracted by the ever-deepening kisses that were pressing him back against the headboard of the bed.
Capturing the tasselled ends in one hand, Herbert slowly started to draw on the cloth, his eyes hooded, as his lips utterly possessed the boy’s mouth. Death’s eyes slipped from the kissing lips to the cloth drawing tighter and tighter by degrees about the boy’s throat. Beneath Herbert’s body, his hips were jerking wantonly, and the vampire shivered pleasantly.
“Mein Herr…” the youth whimpered against the vampire’s lips, then yelped as his head was tugged back.
“Hush, little one,” the vampire whispered, kissing his jaw and chin. The boy shuddered, his eyes rolling, and Herbert slowly and deliberately twisted his hand into the long strip of cloth before the boy’s chest.
A weak gasp fell from the boy’s lips and Death flexed unseen fingers at the sight of the cloth biting into the youth’s throat. His young body was tense, on the very edge of hunger and madness and want, and Herbert played him as a Master musician would an instrument.
Drawing his hand from the boy’s dark, sweat-sodden hair, Herbert traced his fingertips down the youth’s body in a sensuous pattern that made the boy’s already ragged breaths become even weaker and more rapid.
And even as he did so, his other hand continued to twist into the sash, gradually drawing it tighter, until his fist was entirely bound in the rich fabric. It was pressed close beneath the boy’s throat as his other hand moved on the youth’s body.
The boy’s face was flushed from want and breathlessness, his dark lashes falling against his cheekbones, and the vampire was watching him, his grey eyes gleaming, the tip of his tongue visible between his teeth.
The vampire’s golden head rolled back when hands touched his hips, slipping over to smooth against his thighs. “You have my attention,” Death murmured. His usual melancholy garb had been forgotten and flesh pressed to immortal flesh.
Uttering a sound that was part moan, part purr, Herbert arched his head back, pressing against Death’s chest. “I’ve been waiting,” he whispered, tilting his face towards Death’s, his lips grazing Death’s jaw softly.
Neither of them paid heed to the stifled whimper from the boy before them as Death let the vampire youth’s mouth meet his possessively, hungrily, as one who has been starved for the seven decades of half-death.
Letting his hands move, Death pressed against Herbert’s back, lifting the back of his shirt, until their bodies were so near that the vampire’s chill and his own were so closely united that it was impossible to tell the one from the other.
With a roll of his hips, he drew a groan from the young vampire, slim hips rising beneath his hands, rocking and in turn pressing against the hips of the boy beneath them, whose feeble twitches went unnoticed.
Sliding his palms over Herbert’s hips once more, Death caressed the smooth plane of flesh between hip and groin, kneading thighs, then slipping beneath the low-slung ruffles of the vampire’s oversized shirt, his hands deftly seeking and touching.
His tremor of pleasure was repeated in the mortal beneath them and Death growled softly against the vampire’s throat, one hand splaying on Herbert’s belly, holding him still while his other hand moved and his hips slowly, lazily, shifted.
Herbert’s head fell back against Death’s shoulder, his hands flexing around the sash that was clutched between his fingers. Breathless sounds of satisfaction tripped from his lips, his hips quivering under Death’s ministrations. Pained gasps were escaping the boy before them and Death drew his lips from the vampire youth’s throat to turn pale eyes to those of the boy trapped before them, whose death was holding him close.
Glazed with desire, his face darkened with blood, the boy’s eyes went wide at the sight of Death, who smiled, reaching around the vampire to pull the unfortunate youth’s mouth against his, as he drove himself hard and fast against Herbert.
The boy’s cry was cut off by a savage crack as Herbert’s hands jerked against the sash as the vampire came apart before Death.
Tasting the mortal’s end and releasing the boy’s head, letting it loll at a strange angle, Death touched his own tongue to his lower lip. A sound of pleasure escaped him, his hips sliding against Herbert’s body.
Moments later, spent as the vampire was, Death held Herbert close to his chest.
“You waited, hmm?”
“Mm.” Herbert tilted his head to claim a kiss, whining indignantly when it was denied. It turned into a dangerous growl when Death’s hand fisted into his pampered hair, pulling his head back mercilessly.
“You are a spoiled little brat, Master von Krolock,” Death whispered silkily against the vampire’s jaw.
“Often been said,” Herbert half-hissed the words, untangling his hands from the sash to reach back and grasp Death’s hips, holding the immortal being hard against his body, his own hips shifting wantonly.
“And you always get what you want, I suppose?” Death dragged his tongue up Herbert’s throat.
Herbert’s throat shifted as he laughed. “Eventually,” he purred. His head lifted as Death’s teeth grazed his throat and he shuddered pleasantly. “Seventy years… I have to admit I was losing patience…”
“Stubborn brat,” Death murmured with a chuckle. “This one was exceptional.”
He felt the vampire’s eyes slant down towards him. “Only this one?”
“A dozen near deaths with one boy?” Death granted Herbert a brief kiss, one finger uncurling from Herbert’s hair to trace the nape of the vampire’s pale neck. “That takes a skill the likes of which few can manage.”
“I knew you were watching!” Grey eyes were bright with triumph, which did not fade even when Death tensed his hand in the young vampire’s hair. Twisting in Death’s arms, his body shifting, he pressed his palms against Death’s shoulders, his fangs bared as he grinned.
Death raised an eyebrow. “Perhaps.”
Herbert only laughed and launched himself forward, tumbling them both on the crumpled sheets and blankets, fighting for purchase as aggressively as Death as he was flipped over and pinned down.
“Oh, I adore you, darling!” he exulted, pulling Death’s mouth onto his. His legs were wrapped around Death’s hips, his hands sinking into Death’s hair and he laughed again, his eyes alight. “So full of resistance and denial.”
That alone made Death pull back. “I have succumbed once,” he murmured. “This will be the last time.”
“Until I can find you, darling,” Herbert wriggled enticingly, his pale lips curling in a childish pout. “You keep on hiding from me, mein Herr.”
“Look if you will,” Death whispered against those pouting lips. “But you will never find me, little boy.”
Over Herbert’s body, Death allowed his to fade into his own realm, leaving Herbert’s body wound round nothing more than air and shadows. His limbs sank and he closed his eyes, arching as if caressed by an invisible presence.
“A challenge, mein Herr?” he whispered, running his hands down his bare chest and further still. His body curved magnificently and Death’s hand mimicked the path of the young vampire’s. “So be it.” His body moved, arching and shifting wantonly. “I will find you if it takes me eternity.”
And under Death’s eyes and his own hand, he brought himself to pieces once more.