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duplicitymemes2019-09-12 04:47 pm
duplicitymods) wrote in duplicitymemes2019-09-12 04:47 pm
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TDM #8
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It's discouraging to think how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit. Yet, solace is found in the lies we tell each other, comforted by the peace of knowing that we're not alone in our depravity, and once on this path, sin itself becomes the lesser of two evils masked in a cloud of normalcy. This is how Duplicity has functioned since the beginning. The divide of power and social standing is overt in that Dominants influence the decisions made both publicly and privately while Submissives cater to the rules presented to them. It is the way of Duplicity to assign random designations at birth with no leeway in altering what has been given. Climate in the Up is far stricter than that of the Down; violating outlined personas for a Dominant or Submissive while in full view of others is punished by degree of infraction. In the Down, many tend to turn a blind eye to these sorts of offenses. To counteract the discovery of the Deceit Gene – a natural "negative" response to all stimuli – the L.I.E.S. program was founded. The program had been designed to introduce new subjects to the current environment and test for the Deceit Gene through immersion in Duplicity's standing society. Sexual impulses and encounters increase the chances of detecting the gene within these individuals. Participants are typically released from L.I.E.S. after a year; however, results have remained unsatisfactory and testing still continues. ... and you’re here! Finally! Welcome to Duplicity. After choosing a door and stepping through to the other side, the first thing that greets you are the enthusiastic faces of people in medical scrubs and pristine lab coats. Their enthusiasm translates to eagerness as they strip you of your clothes to perform a thorough examination—you will be healed, bathed, and given a paper gown to wear until your items can be processed and delivered to your residence later in the evening. You are also given a device that accesses the network as well as the time and location of orientation. If you enter Duplicity into the Up, congratulations! You’re a Dominant, which means you are immediately picked up by a limo after processing and taken to your highrise. Here, it is two Dominants per floor with separate apartments. If you enter Duplicity into the Down, congratulations! You’re a Submissive, which means you are directed towards public transportation with the address of the motel you’ll be living in. Here, it is two Submissives per room with a shared common space for all rooms. Enjoy your free time until orientation! Participation is mandatory by all new and old arrivals. The hellish summer heat is finally starting to subside, and the cool breeze suggests autumn is approaching. |
 After stepping through the door and participating in orientation, LIERS are assembled together in the Up for a tour of Duplicity in its entirety. Seats are in pairs and randomly assigned to Dominants and Submissives alike. Traveling from Fiddler's Square, the train journeys through various parts of the Up, showcasing society and examples of lifestyle. Along the way, frequent stops are made; a variety of passengers can be seen exiting and entering the doors. A Dominant with a kneeling Submissive takes a seat near the front of the train at one stop. A small group of Submissives board and sit closer to the LIERS at another, all seemingly content in their roles. As the tour continues through the Up, the train passes close to the Market and White Wall Bridge and zips by North Park before heading into the Down and bypassing Red Wall Bridge and South Park. The train makes a "final" stop at Riddler's Square, where inhabitants of the Down are instructed to return to their temporary housing. Those who live in the Up are permitted to stay on the train and revisit the same locations while returning. |
 The weather’s getting cooler, and people have begun transitioning from summer clothing to the sweaters and jackets of early fall. With jackets come pockets, and with pockets come a bizarre uptick in robberies. Then again, perhaps the correlation is flawed. In the Down, getting robbed is a constant threat. Gangs of street toughs look for lone or inattentive people who look like they’ve got valuables on hand. Uncontracted Submissives are particularly easy to rob, since authorities have little time to bother with a lowly Submissive without a Dominant to advocate for them. One particularly nasty gang of young adult men, the Bulldogs, hangs out near the train, looking to ambush unwary Submissives fresh out of Orientation. They are prone to violent muggings and will simply beat up their target and leave them in a gutter when they’re finished robbing them. In the Up, the streets are nominally safer, but there have been reports of a group of college-aged Submissive women taking advantage of their designation to attack travelers. They, too, stand near the train and the orientation center, looking to seduce passersby into an alley where a group of them can beat and mug their victims, usually Dominants looking to capitalize on their pretty appearances. But you’re truthfully at risk anywhere in the city. The new arrivals are easy targets, and any brazen thief might get the idea to make some quick cash. The authorities are spread too thin to help, but perhaps LIErs can look out for one another? Or they might just get in on the thievery. Everyone’s out for themselves, after all. |
( CW: potential dubcon, drugs, BDSM/sexual torture, prostitution, public use ) Surrounding a large building near the orientation center in the Up, banners and fliers announcing the beginning of the inaugural Duplicity High Tech Sexpo, a trade show for businesses and manufacturers of adult novelties. Since this is the expo’s first year, admission is free and many excited volunteers are handing out vouchers all over the city. These vouchers can be exchanged for goods and services within the expo, but have no monetary value outside of it. Even if you refuse them, you’ll likely find two or three of them tucked into your bag or pocket. Inside the expo hall, there are dozens of booths pitching a variety of entertainments. Many offer interactive demonstrations, showing off their tech for the crowds of interested onlookers. Competition is fierce, and booths try to attract attention and customers through any means necessary. There are private rooms all around the expo for potential customers to try out the products. Booths will also happily accept volunteers for demos, or try to recruit them by bribing them with cash or free samples. There’s a nasty rumor going around that some are recruiting volunteers via more illicit means, like drugging and dressing them up, but surely that’s an exaggeration… Some of the smaller booths sell more traditional toys and accessories: leashes and collars, specialty lubes and massage oils, fetish gear, strap-ons, dildos and vibrators in myriad shapes and sizes, and other basic items. Others advertise apps for the devices, the most notable of which is HUGGR (which LIErs may recognize as a poorly rebuilt sex-themed version of a certain other app.) The closer you get to the big-ticket sponsor booths, the more elaborate and fantastic the products become. One of the most eye-catching demos is for the Climax VR Headset. You and a partner both wear a VR headset, which displays a collaborative virtual scenario. Both partners can alter the setting and surroundings however they like, and any sexual activity conducted in VR transmits real sensations to their bodies. You can come together without ever physically touching. Symphony Hydraulics have a large, loud booth where crowds gather to watch perhaps the most outrageous demo: a variety of fucking machines. Volunteers get stripped, strapped in, and turned on, brought to screaming orgasms in front of the whole crowd. There is a fifteen minute break between demos on each machine, as some poor intern hurriedly washes and sanitizes them between uses. In the interim, they offer smaller, portable versions for sale or rent at the expo. (Some may note that a few of the Symphony Hydraulics staff members look a bit familiar.) Does all this high-tech equipment have you overwhelmed? Wish you could go back to a simpler time? Sir Robert’f Bedroome Provifionf (sic) is helmed by historical reenactor Robert Plum, who has also created his own line of medieval torture device-themed sex toys. Need a chastity belt to keep your Submissive all to yourself? A rack with an attached spreader-bar? An iron maiden with soft vibrating silicone ticklers inside? All the stocks and whips and chains you could ever need? Sir Robert has you covered. Of course, everything on display is harmlessly altered for sexual novelty purposes, but one might also ask to see Sir Robert’s “special” merchandise in the back. Perhaps the most unassuming booth at the expo belongs to Grandma Hattie’s Snacks and Sweets. Grandma Hattie, a kindly old Submissive, has partnered with a tech company to produce what appear to be completely normal vending machines, stocked full of her tasty homemade bread, snack cakes, and other baked goods. Vouchers are good for a free sample of any treat from a vending machine. They taste amazing and have no apparent odd effects-- until 10 minutes after consumption, when you suddenly gain an insatiable craving for a random kink. Your craving will dominate your thoughts for three hours, or until it is appeased. |
 (CW: potential dubcon, objectification) By far the largest and shiniest booth comes from expo sponsors Sexy Metal Incorporated, who have set up a display of their incredible high-tech sexbots. These life-sized dolls are made of extremely realistic material that feels like warm human skin, and come with state-of-the-art mechanics that give them lifelike movement. Engineers show off how the bots can be plugged into a computer and programmed to act any way the buyer likes. They come in a wide variety of customizable appearances and eerily, some of the bots on display look exactly like people you may know. Booth staff encourage customers to buy these dolls, or to rent them and give them a try onstage in front of the fascinated crowds. If that’s not kinky enough, one of the engineers has purchased a VR headset from another booth, and programmed it to interface with the bot’s controls. Care to slip inside the silicone skin of another person? |
Please read carefully. On each Test Drive Meme, there will be a section noting character roles; these will vary each TDM. On an IC level, characters will still have gone through the doors but assignments OOCly are still randomized. When applying, there is a section of the application that denotes whether the character chooses "left" or "right". When participating on the TDM, there will be a third option. Players may link either a top level or a thread (five or more comments from their character) from the TDM and title the link as "Door Pass". This means that the player is choosing to take the designation that they were randomly assigned on the TDM, rather than taking the designation of a door. If the player decides to select a door rather than use the pass, then they are trying their luck; they may get the same designation they had on the TDM or the opposite. Once the application is submitted, players can't change their choice. To assign roles to characters for this TDM, use the following guide: In celebration of our one year, pick whichever role you want for your character! » A Pocket Full of Pennies: Feel free to come up with any free-roving gangs or petty criminals you like for your characters to tangle with. » New Flesh Like A Glove: Characters can spend money on items at the expo, or may exchange vouchers for what they want. Each voucher has a value of about $5 within the expo and they may be acquired by finding them, having them handed to characters/stuffed in their pockets or bags by expo volunteers, or paid them in exchange for “volunteering” at booths. Characters may indeed try before they buy, either out in the open or using one of the provided private rooms with a partner. The expo has a staff of unpaid student interns tasked with cleaning and sanitizing products if they are used but not purchased. Grandma Hattie’s snacks can inspire characters to have any kink you may desire. » Perfection of the Digital: Sexbots can resemble any player characters, including brand new arrivals/test drive characters. They can also resemble characters that yours knows from home. The engineers have no explanation for this, and the one who identifies himself as the designer will shrug and say he gets inspiration from many places. The sexbots are hot-ticket expensive merchandise, so security is tight around the booth. Characters who attempt to steal or destroy a sexbot (for instance, one who looks like themselves) will be quickly set upon by guards, who are meant to eject them from the expo. However, many of the guards will take bribes from other booths to provide them model “volunteers,” drugged into complacency. If characters want to acquire a sexbot permanently, they will have to buy it or exchange a hefty 50 vouchers for it. Please remember to mark any necessary content, and have fun!! |
no subject
[ It's not a weighted comment, he doesn't feel responsible for her death as his father does--did. Alucard loved his mother and all experiences surrounding here were warm and, for the most part, happy. Of course she had disciplined him when he was naughty (which he often was with his unnatural abilities) but she also taught him a great deal. Her influence helped form him into the deeply sensitive man he was today. ]
Most refer to me by an alias, which is Alucard if you're at all interested.
[ Dracula backwards, ah, how very creative the people of Wallachia are.
He continued to follow Dorian, noting the area and how it steadily began to degrade. Did he live in a slum or were his negative predictions about to come true. He was used to being stared at, pinning the reasoning on fear or disgust. Alucard rarely thought that hungry eyes may have been lilted more towards attraction over aggression. ]
Hm, Dorian.
That's a nice name, Greek in origin if I'm not mistaken. Its root is supposedly that of Doros, a legendary Greek hero - or so they say. Doros was the son of Helen of Sparta, apparently the most beautiful woman in the world.
[ A cheeky grin followed. ]
But humans are so prone to exaggeration.
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[Alucard or Adrian. He found himself preferring the latter, if only for the fact it was a real name and not an alias. It would feel strange to call him something untruthful. Did not people generally favor their own given name, or was there purpose behind the alias as well?
Before Dorian could ask after the meaning of 'Alucard', that bit of trivia came next. He turned a puzzled look back in time to catch the grin, and then he forced his gaze ahead, focus on the path they walked.]
Perhaps there's something to that. I am quite attractive.
[Easy to fall to flirtation, to flatter his own ego as he often did, than meet those gold eyes now. A dangerous game to play with the creature who'd pinned him to the wall and ripped through his skin; too bad he often went against what was best for himself. A self-destructive tendency, perhaps. He didn't analyze it.]
But, no. It isn't 'Greek' - I come from a world called Thedas, likely very different from your own. The name is Tevinter. As for its historical roots, I honestly couldn't say. Though I do like that tale of Doros.
[The Down grew darker, dingier around them. He led to the hotel where the submissives were assigned; it wasn't a place he'd spent much time, to be honest, but it would be less public than the streets of the Up. At the entrance, he turned to look at Alucard.]
Well. Here we are. A bit of a shithole, don't you think? You'll no doubt have much finer accommodations to look forward for yourself. Such is the divide of class in Duplicity.
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If you are an ambassador and representative of Thedas then perhaps it is just as well that it different from my homeland. With people like you around I doubt anyone could focus to get anything done.
[ A half tease he just couldn’t resist. Not that he seemed very able to resist anything at the moment.
A moment’s pause outside of Dorian’s accommodation, such as it was. Dismal and depressing, it looked like a venue that had originally been quite grand but decades of disrepair and neglect had reduced it to a shadow of its former self. That made it seem all the sadder.
The comment regarding class was lost on him since he’d not spent more than a few hours in Duplicity and his only experience thus far had been the trade fair and Dorian’s company. ]
Lead on.
[ He said simply, adding in a characteristic bit of backchat as he followed Dorian to his room. ]
As I remember it, you were the one who asked me here. I’ve yet to see where I’m supposed to stay, if I’m to stay here at all.
[ He stalked Dorian to his temporary home, keeping a good distance from him. His eyes, glassy and liquid, were hyper-focused on the exposed back of his neck. The clean line between his dark hair and smooth skin, the outline of his spine. He studied how his flesh stretched over the bone and-- and---
He had to stop that train of thought… surely?
But how lush he smelt, even surrounded by the filth of the Down slums. His nostrils filled with the scent of his clotting blood; thick and rich, concentrated and-- he shuddered, lips parted and moist. ]
You must know that you’re going to regret this.
[ Just let him in, let him into that private space, lock the door.
Let him give in just once. ]
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At the door to his assigned apartment, he paused. The whole while he'd led, Dorian had opened doors using the hand on his injured arm as the other was occupied applying pressure with shirt fabric, and the movement stung each time, reminding him of the teeth-marks embedded in his skin. He knew his skin messy and bloody beneath. The shirt would be well beyond repair.
It was true. Dorian was the one who asked him here. At the time it had seemed wiser than leaving him to the streets, for someone else.
It would be wiser now to let him in, but then trap him in the room alone, until this bloodlust wore off (if it did). His mind entertained the option; but he doubted he could keep someone like the vampire in any space he did not want to be. Even with hasty magic.
Dorian remembered earlier's fear - but he also remembered the glimpse of quick tears, that look of sadness, the slow unraveling imagery of the woman in his head. And the thrill of it, too, secret in his own mind, something he didn't wish to admit. Dorian sighed as he placed his hand on the door handle and pushed it open.]
Yes, probably.
[Lucky he did not have a roommate. It was a small space: two beds in the main living area, a tiny kitchen, the basics of furniture. It was tidy, at least. Dorian shut the door behind them, then turned toward the bathroom.]
I'm going to clean and bandage this up. You can entertain yourself for a few moments, can't you?
no subject
He heard the quiet click of the latch, heralding the privacy he had been waiting for. Dorian’s words washed over him like an invisible tide, he noticed them but didn’t take note of them. Something about tending the wound.
The wound he had given him.
If only he had been in his right mind, he might have even gone to tend the bite with Dorian whilst apologising profusely. But in this state there was only one thought that came to mind, seeping down from his skull, along his jaw and onto his tongue like poison. ]
Why would you waste it.
[ A criticism, not a question.
Lightning reflexes afforded him the pleasure of snapping his vice-like grip around the wrist of Dorian’s healthy arm. Thoughts of his innocent, caring mother were long gone, stamped out and replaced but a repressed lust. A desire he had pushed down into the pit of his belly, bubbling up with each accidental, vulgar flash of Dorian’s skin, the perfume of his skin and the lilt of his voice.
Alucard pressed that wrist against the apartment’s wall, the flimsy drywall divide seemed to bow under the pressure of his grip. Firm and immovable but not crushing. A familiar position for them now, perhaps.
As he kept him in place with one hand, he cruelly took the wrist of the damaged arm and hoisted it up, extending it. A long, protracted lick of the sweet, clotting blood followed. Molten gold eyes locked on Dorian’s expression. Waiting for a reaction, eager for it, whether good or bad. ]
no subject
Dorian thought perhaps it wouldn't be as shocking to have a mouth on an open wound the second time, but he was wrong. He could feel the drag of the vampire's hot tongue as it collected a trickle of blood down the length of his extended forearm. The punctured skin burned upon contact, and he heard himself make another sound that was low and reedy as he fought against the grasp, instinctively trying to escape even when he knew he couldn't. Not without using magic; and even that could be risky.
Focus. He had to clear his head and focus.]
I should have asked before, but what does it do to you? How does it compare to another's? [Dorian couldn't quite stamp out the cold seed of fear in his belly. His eyes hung on the connection of that mouth to skin, pink lips over the red wound.] My blood, that is. It... should be rather magically potent.
[Was he essentially connecting a dangerous creature to a channel of pure, raw power? The thought was terrifying. But perhaps Alucard couldn't make use of blood magic, and instead this was only ordinary fuel.
Which part was better? The latter, definitely. He was grateful for the years of research and training he now had - that this didn't send him screaming in terror, only evoked curiosity and some reaction even darker, more sinister, belted down in his subconscious.]
Adrian.
[The name came stern and rigid. He held that golden look with his own eyes, paler silver in the light cast from the window. He wanted an answer before he could decide how to progress.]
no subject
He heard the question, but it took some time for him to decide to answer it. Talking seemed trivial next to the delights of the flesh. With another long, hot lap of his tongue he exhaled. His breath warm and the sigh audible - he looked like he’d just dined on a delicious three-course meal. When he did finally speak his voice seemed lower, raspy even. ]
It sustains me, like food, but this does… more.
[ It wasn’t a fair description but in his current state it was the best he could muster. As he went on, considering Dorian’s question, his cool, predatory demeanor faltered ever-so-slightly as he added. ]
And… I cannot compare it. You are the first.
[ Hearing the name his mother gave him plucked at a taut heartstring. He wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be cruel or an act of kindness to try and pull him out of his trance.
The real issue now was that, after tasting him again, a great part of him didn’t want to snap out of this state. But the waver in that resolve was there in the slant of his brow and the softening of his eye, a momentary blip before he tightened the grip on the bitten arm’s wrist. Certainly not enough to cause any damage, but a hint of a constricted strength. ]
Don’t chastise me with that name.
no subject
[Was it true? What did that mean? He couldn't help the color of shock in his voice, even as his mind rang in alarm after that tongue, licking across the red little holes where bladed canines had punctured. It wasn't bleeding so badly as before, but still it burned under the attention. Dorian felt dizzy and unfocused. Not to the extreme of teeth in his flesh when Alucard had initially bitten down, yet his heart pounded at that same rabbit-pace, a loud rush in his ears.
Breathless in frustration at being held immobile and lapped at like a dog, Dorian's tone took on an edge.]
Which is it then that I should call out? Adrian or Alucard?
[He was reminded of what he had said about the vampire's tastes. He wasn't here to bare his throat and give permission to be drained of blood. It was dangerous. He could lose consciousness, go into shock, a gradual and ugly death.
Speaking was a distraction.]
You seem to view yourself as a beast, uncontrollable and ravenous. Or perhaps that's just how you wish to be treated. Hm? Should I mock you, vampire? Should I beg you to fuck me instead and spare my life, as you suggested?
[Dorian leaned away from the wall, as far as he could with his unmarked arm pinned back, enough to bring their faces in closer. The coppery scent of his own blood was thick even in his own nostrils.]
no subject
The root of his disapproval of Dorian using that name was that it was a little too effective. He preferred the name his mother had given him, which was why being scolded with it hurt so badly. He knew this, but didn’t know how to explain it. In truth he had suspicions that Dorian could work out why it wounded him.
As he listened to Dorian chastising him the grip on both of his wrists tightened. Whilst he knew his own strength and how to use it his hold was probably beginning to border on being painful. Frustration grew in him but (to add to it) he wasn’t entirely sure why. Did this pent up ball of energy stem from his blood lust or from the cruelly astute observations Dorian was making. How infuriating it was to be psychoanalysed correctly after a few short hours of knowing him. How could Dorian have known that his monstrous facade was just that; a mask worn to protect himself.
With these feelings of frustration his rationality began to bow and from the base of his throat there was a just-audible growl, like the rumbling noise one would expect from a cornered wolf separated from its pack.
That closeness, the smell of him, his courage and intelligence. No, Alucard could no longer hold back, the cocktail of drugs in his system shaken with the adrenaline and endorphins were too much to bear. ]
You… push your luck!
[ He finally responded, his words a violent hiss.
Both hands released Dorian’s wrists to instead find the elegant angle of his jaw. But this was no forceful hold, he didn’t drag him in abrasively, if anything he was cradling his face. An uncharacteristically gentle gesture, considering how he’d acted today.
Which was ruined by the following kiss. Alucard’s lips crashed into Dorian’s, his mouth ripe with the lingering taste of his blood, lips hot and hungry. Another first, inexperience hidden under unbridled passion and lust. As much as he wanted to taste his blood, he also wanted to taste him without injury. His eyes closed as that feeling light-headed attraction filled his thoughts. Dorian was lovely, and here he was ruining him.
He had to silence him, to stop those cutting, accurate words from reaching him. ]
no subject
The kiss was unexpected.
Bracketed by gentle hands, it was a kiss of feral hunger more than elegance or experience, carrying with it a coppery undertone he could taste on his own lips. The momentum of Alucard reaching for him and the loss of that hold on both wrists sent Dorian swaying backward, so that his back landed against the wall without unlatching the kiss.
Better than another bite, or so his mind reasoned through a dizzy spell of extreme, acute, confusing arousal.
Dorian lifted first one hand and wove it into golden hair, fingers dragging across his scalp, sweeping the heavy curtain of it over one of Alucard's shoulders and then cradling the back of his head. The other extended to touch the top of Alucard's chest. He laid his palm on the rise of a pectoral and felt the defined line of muscle beneath fabric of clothing. It didn't push away. Rather, it held, balling into a fist.
With effort he turned the kiss more orderly, pressing against that mouth to manage a firm seal, tip of his tongue coaxing lips to spread open to surrender that hot interior. More dangerous was the sharp threat of teeth just behind; Dorian's venturing licks were careful, then, so as not to accidentally nick himself.]
no subject
So when the warm, softness of the kiss continued with the added sensations of Dorian's touch he may have felt Alucard shudder. And with the shudder a moan that stayed trapped in their sealed mouths. Much to his own (and possibly Dorian's) surprise he let him lead the kiss for a time. Mimicking him to some degree so that his tongue met his, thinking how cool Dorian's mouth was in contrast to his own.
His fingers delicately ran down his cheeks for a moment, a horribly affectionate gesture, tender and sweet. A moment of tenderness before his hands began to shift. Oval, shapely nails moved down the elegant line of Dorian's neck, feather light in touch before slinking to the front of his chest and then back around. Nails turned to fingertips to palms until he gripped Dorian's waist. Moving lower still.
He crouched slightly, palms just below Dorian's buttocks, where he gripped the top of the back of his thighs and, effortlessly, hoisted him up. One leg either side of his hips, his weight nothing to Alucard. One hand under each leg and his back still propped against the wall.
Alucard cruelly broke the kiss and began to lay a dangerous trail of kisses down perfect angle of Dorian's jaw towards his neck. He spoke a little in doing this, breathless and urgent. ]
Now that I've tasted you... I must have all of you.
Give yourself to me, Dorian.
no subject
But it was clear this situation tilted in another direction, one darker and more familiar. The pull of heat in his belly was immediate as Alucard's hands circled down and lifted him up without obvious effort. The suggestion of strength took his breath. It wasn't often a single movement made him throb between his legs like that one did. Strong thighs closed around those narrow hips, ankles crossing behind.
The hand returned to gold hair, combing back strands to watch as Alucard's lips descended down his jaw and ventured closer to his throat. His own mouth flattened into a smirk.
This was what the city expected of them, did it not? To fuck, often and anywhere, assuming that was what Alucard meant by all of him. He wondered if the vampire knew what he was asking - or if it was a different sense of ownership, such as one over his blood.
It didn't take him long to decide what to say.]
Ground rules, darling. [Dorian's voice was a low, silken murmur, the sort of tone he used when whispering dark fantasies into the ears of beautiful men just like this.] I'd rather you not bite me so deeply again that it would scar. Anywhere it can heal, anything shallow, would be best. And nowhere that might be too obvious a wound that others will see.
[He didn't want the questions or concern, nor did he want to go around covered in bandages tomorrow.]
Also, if you take too much, I might pass out. I'd prefer to avoid that. [Another stroke through hair, the strands sliding across his knuckles.] Have you ever been with a man before?
[It seemed pertinent to ask.]
no subject
Inexperience in this field made his movements obvious, like the way his head tilted into the touch of Dorian’s fingers in his hair. Like a cat scenting a loved one (or table leg). He had wanted to be subtle, maybe even swarve, but an attention-starved youth made him long for touch. So much of him had expected rejection, repulsion and anger, to find a reciprocation of his advances only proved to encourage him.
Even under the influence he heeded Dorian, to heed his voice his lips stopped at half-closed, doe-eyes looked up at him as he spoke.
Darling, well, that was new
and rather pleasant.But as he continued to listen he found himself awestruck. Was Dorian giving him permission to feed from him. A confusing mix of delight, excitement and trepidation collided in him. After what he had done he expected ground rules like ‘bite me again and I’ll burn you’, not ‘take it ease, I don’t want to be the cause of any raised eyebrows’.
More kindness, more open-mindedness. This was obviously going to be a very dangerous union for Alucard. ]
You… would offer more of yourself, even after what I’ve taken.
[ He found himself absentmindedly stroking his thumbs affectionately on the back of Dorian’s thighs.
At the second, graceful combing of his hair Alucard turned to momentarily rest his cheek against Dorian’s palm, then kiss it (probably not the wisest of moves considering how close this put his mouth to his wrist). Perhaps it was a needy movement. But the sympathetic, closed-eyed expression that partnered this gesture bordered on the divine. Like a vivid oil painting of an old master, luminous and manifest, basking with a quiet joy.
Of course that final question pulled him from the moment of stillness. He blinked, as if trying to recall a distant memory, hints of confusion playing on his brow and in his eyes. ]
I have not been with anyone. Why, does that matter?
[ Yes, it was a genuine question. ]
no subject
Dorian realized his arm had finally stopped its slow bleed, and Alucard's mouth had lapped away most of the trickling lines of blood, so he draped it over one shoulder to keep him in close. The sting of its injury seemed faraway to the warm line where their bodies pressed together. The offer came more out of reasonable assumption he might try to be bitten again - better to find a middle ground and express his boundaries - though he would be lying if he didn't say that the idea was intimately thrilling to consider.
It called to mind he felt in that street corner, dizzy and breathless, the thread of connection between them where teeth sat embedded in flesh. Perhaps more intimate than sex.
He was beautiful, Dorian knew that. But the moment Alucard kissed his wrist that beauty struck him all over again, making him wonder whether this was in fact a desire demon meant to tempt him, crafted out of elegant pieces, so perfect it made him ache. Those thumbs on his thighs earned a low hum of pleasure.
And then that confession. He let out a breathless laugh. It wasn't cruel, which he assuaged by continuing to stroke his head, a little taken with that long silky hair.]
It does if you mean to have all of me. Are you certain you know what you're asking for? [Dorian was sincere in return, if a bit playful.] Forgive me if I find it difficult to believe you've never slept with anyone. I'd expect you would have suitors lined up at the door. [Perhaps it was the 'vampire' element which complicated things.]
There are other things we could do, as... preliminary introduction.
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It had taken an inordinate amount of willpower to stop himself from biting him (this time).
The laugh, knowing the light tone of it and that it was not vindictive, only proved to vex and confuse the dhampire further. He responded, equally sincere, albeit a bit perplexed. ]
I know what I asked for: to have all of you is to have all of your attentions. Why do you question me like this, I can read, you know. I'm sure I can make my way around a human body regardless of gender.
[ His response insinuated that he wasn't exclusively interested in men, rather that he had an interest in people.
Alucard found both genders attractive for different reasons but more often than not found himself pulled in by personality over physical appearances. And Dorian had such a unique and delightful character he didn't think anyone could resist him. ]
Hm... If my family's reputation hadn't been so murderous things may have gone rather differently for me.
[ Alucard had found it difficult enough to make friends, let alone find a partner. ]
What sort of things are you talking about?
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The conversation veered away his attention, his look of amused disbelief vivid. His hand dropped from Alucard's hair, so that both arms were laid now across his shoulders.]
There's... quite a difference between reading and, well, the practice of doing. Not that I'm one to doubt what might be your... natural instinct.
[Or talent in bed, as the case might be. Dorian was just trying to be realistic. However much he might be wanted, he'd learned to tread carefully with men who had never had experience with other men, as it was such new territory to them. Though this was a special case, as in fact Alucard had never had anyone. The revelation still spun his mind.
Ah, familial reputation. Dorian could relate to that more than he would say, though for different and less murderous reasons.]
Nevertheless. Here you are now. [He dipped his chin forward, lips ghosting along the curve of Alucard's sharp jawline, breath feathery across pale skin as his voice dipped into a darker drawl.] I could give you my mouth, or my tongue, or my hands. I'm known to be rather skillful with them, if you'd like the demonstration.
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He felt like they were now dancing around his lust and it made it all the more agonising. So with an unmistakable tone of frustration (but not anger) and maybe a little sarcasm Alucard snipped back. ]
Oh I don't know, some of these books had pictures.
[ How he had wanted to add another cutting comment to his response, to try and put Dorian in his place and impress upon him that with enough research anyone could be an expert in anything, but the train of thought derailed. His lips were enough to distract him, but the suggestions that followed made his stilted breath catch in a quashed groan.
Pushing that revealing noise down his throat his broad chest tensed, trapping it in his lungs until it fizzled away. Mouth agape, exposing those vampiric teeth, he had to bring himself back to reality with the snapping of his jaw. ]
Y--[ He stammered, noticeably so. ]-You are cruel.
[ Of course it could've been an insult, but the heavy weight of arousal and the breathless desire that coloured the words made them seem more like praise.
The wall was too limiting and holding him up too constricting. He couldn't take being touched and kissed with both hands indisposed. He turned, still holding Dorian, and judging from the first glance he made his way in the direction of the bedroom (it was such a small apartment, it didn't take much ingenuity to guess its whereabouts). He moved as if he weighed nothing at all and whilst his breathing was laboured it was less to do with what he was carrying and more to do with how he felt about what he carried.
He paused, standing over the bed. ]
Oh, and fuck you.
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It was such an absurd statement, he almost could not refrain from laughter. In the end he concealed it behind a grin that crinkled in the corners of his eyes. He wanted to ask whether Alucard was studying anatomy books or pornography, both of which drew a different (yet highly entertaining) image in his mind. He knew next to nothing about the vampire, but through these little pieces it felt as though he could perceive a glimpse or two, slivers of personality and individuality.
And that additional dangerous element, always.
As soon as Alucard moved him from the wall, he tried to shift his weight, arms coming to loose more securely around those shoulders. It wasn't that he thought he would be dropped, but - it was just impulse. Muscular legs flexed in tightening over Alucard's hips. It was purposeful movement. Soon they were in the bedroom, and Dorian's gaze turned over his own shoulder to look down at the bed, wondering if he was to be gently placed or thrown.]
Is that a promise?
[He couldn't help the sharp reply. For effect, Dorian leaned in and kissed him on the mouth, chaste and close-lipped - but full of hard, daring pressure - then withdrew to look him in the eye.]
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He dare not admit how curiously pleasant it felt to be held, to be spoken to so unabashedly, to be desired (or at least feel desired, naturally a part of him doubted it the back of his mind). He wondered if this was the sort of human companionship he had missed in his stark, lonely youth, but the thought flitted into his head as quickly as it had arrived. His arousal didn't let it tarry and it barely even entered his consciousness. A thought for another time, perhaps.
The kiss was what he'd come to expect of Dorian. A wicked tease, a taste of what he could have pulled away too soon too quickly. The moment he'd engaged in it, it had gone. ]
Oh yes.
[ He whispered, taking a final step closer to the bed, his shins resting against its edge. One knee, followed by the other, sunk into the mattress and he released Dorian's legs (at last). Taking a leaf from the mage's book he decided to be a little cruel. He reached around himself and delicately unhooked his hands from his shoulders. Holding his wrists, a grip familiar to his fingers now, he pinned them to the bed either side of him (although he put little pressure on them this time, Dorian could almost certainly pull them free if he so chose). From there he loomed over Dorian, his hair a pale curtain around that ghostly visage. The wicked, playful grin still tugging at his lips. ]
And now I've got you.
[ Whilst one hand kept Dorian's pinned to the bed, his other, dominant hand ran up the unblemished skin of his arm. Glass-like nails delicately dragging over the black sleeve that was still in one piece. Once he reached his shoulder his palm stroked idly over it before grazing across to run the backs of his fingers along the elegant definition of Dorian's collarbone and down the divide between the neck of his clothing and his skin.
He felt warm and full of life and power. And as Alucard explored his skin his amusement shifted to appetite. A hunger not just limited to blood. His touch was sensual, exploratory and inexperienced. Not the sort of ignorant inexperience one might expect - there was nothing clumsy in what he did. It was like sampling something delicious for the first time. ]
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When lowered, he went obediently, legs unhooked around Alucard's waist and wrists pinned under a hold much more forgiving than earlier. Dorian stretched across the bed in a deliberate picture of temptation. He kicked off his boots, arched his back just slightly enough to lift his hips, and gazed through the black curtain of his own lashes. He'd expected to take the control from this situation in Alucard's inexperience; it seemed that wouldn't be the case, but he wouldn't lay here docile and shy.]
For the time being.
[Dorian was thinking of nothing beyond the pleasure of the moment. He suddenly wanted. It clenched in his belly, a deep ache of arousal as Alucard's silky gold hair hung down and tickled his chin. He smelled like nothing Dorian could place in memory, crisp and foreign, with that rusty undertone of blood.
That hand drew his eyes south, watching its descent with anticipation. In situations like these he was far more used to impatience - the quick hurried fucks of secrecy and remote attraction that would wash out with orgasm. Nothing more than satisfying an urge like an itch. Alucard wasn't touching him like that; he felt his pulse race beneath the fingers over his collar and sternum. The black line of the submissive tattoo was a visible stripe up his throat at this distance.
Unable to use hands, instead he dragged the heel of one foot along the outside of a long leg, then arched again in a defiant squirm, chin tipped back.]
You do strike me as the sort to play with your food.
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Taking a ‘step’ closer on his knees he settled back to sit on his calves between Dorian’s legs (this made him seem a little less towering than he had been moments earlier, although he was still broad and tall in this position). His first response was an open-mouthed smile, his features so perfectly balanced on his face he looked preternatural. All pretenses he had had, for so many years, of keeping his fangs concealed had melted away in tonight’s debauchery.
When he spoke it was a veil of composure under which a special sort of shared urgency existed. As if this mutual attraction was a game, a secret bluff they were both playing with one another. The tension underlying it electric and he battled with the desire to carry it on or simply give in, to tear down the illusion and devour Dorian in a heartbeat. He opted for the former, Hoping that resisting would make the final moment of pleasure all the more euphoric. ]
‘The time being’ can be an awfully long time when you’re an immortal.
[ Honestly? It was a threat; a playful, cruel and wicked one bursting with excitement. The threat of: I can outlast you in this game, I’ll make you give in first.. ]
And yes, I’ve always been a slow eater.
Always deliberately saving the best bits until last.
[ God he wanted him, the temptation was enough to drive him mad, and even worse was he suspected Dorian knew as much.
Alucard shot him a cold look before bending at the waist. Requiring both hands he released Dorian’s other wrist. Now all ten fingers were at the lowest point of the neck of that annoying black shirt. He curled those elegant digits around either side and, in a selfish sort of abandon, he pulled the neck apart until the pressure was too much and it tore down the middle with an unpleasant, scratchy noise. Any objections completely ignored.
Oh he felt quite terrible. Don’t let that keen smile make you think otherwise. ]
… That’s better.
[ He insisted, tossing the torn halves of the shirt aside without a care.
For a long moment he looked.
Just. Looked.
Admiring each contour, each dip and rise, watching how Dorian’s chest rose and fell with his breathing, hearing his heart, thinking it was accelerating (probably in anger at the damaged clothing). He wanted to experience each part of him to its fullest. He began by running the very tips of his fingers down his body. Over the shapely line of his collarbone, the curve of his chest, around the particularly smooth skin about his nipple and over his ribs, past the definition of his stomach muscles to pause just above the waistband of his trousers.
This in itself could’ve been enough, this much skin and life and heat.
He didn’t feel like himself, his arousal and lust roiling inside of him. He wanted to do terrible, wonderful things to Dorian. So he shuffled back a little so that as he leaned over he was closer to that exposed chest. He planted a few, cursory kisses down his neck before pausing just over one of his pectorals. From there he looked up at him with a dark, desperate hunger only suited to a vampire. His lips pulled back and his teeth on show, the very tips against his skin but not piercing it.
And there he waited, silently asking for permission. ]
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It said something about him, how he looked upon Alucard with a shade of attraction so powerful for a moment he couldn't breathe, and knew the strength of those hands and teeth could tear him apart in an instant if he let them.
The threat was one he heard, of course, dark eyes narrowed. It summoned enough resolve not to demand the vampire hurry up in whatever it was he intended to do, as at this point he couldn't be sure if he was to be devoured through his blood or his body. Perhaps both indiscriminately.
Alucard tore the shirt like a flimsy piece of parchment paper. It wasn't sudden, those fingers hooked in the collar as he methodically ripped straight through to the bottom, yet it was unexpected - Dorian swallowed a low sound and shuddered. The tattooed stripe ended at the top of his sternum. He was muscular beneath the clothing, thick and toned and healthy in a way many mages were not. The air felt cooler on bare dusky skin, and the room did not have much light; what little came through the windows seemed to gather in Alucard's hair, in his eyes, across the glint of sharp fangs.
Fangs which hovered over the rise of his chest, brief kisses searing heat that lingered at his throat.]
Now you seek my permission?
[It lacked bite, words made almost entirely of breath. His body felt too hot, stomach twisting, at once shying away from the promise of hurt and also yearning for it, this twisted spell of pain-and-pleasure found in the intimate seal of a mouth. But he'd told Alucard what he would allow. It was such a vulnerable position to be in, and one he'd never experienced. Had he made the right decision? The insistent, desperate aching of his cock seemed to think so. He hadn't even noticed when he'd become hard. It must have been immediate, that betrayed hook of arousal in his belly when Alucard touched him anywhere with a soft and precise hand.
Fingers finally lifted to stroke over the perfect heartbreaking symmetry of Alucard's cheeks and chin, thumbs grazing up to the corner of eyes, admiring the way gold hair fell around him. Dorian's voice was a brittle rasp.]
I already gave it to you, did I not? Should I repeat myself?
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The look couldn't have been more than a wicked glance as his eyes closed, breathing in silently and deeply through his nose. Throat filling with the perfume of Dorian's skin and the blood that flowed just underneath it. A soft kiss on the shapely curve of his pectoral, and another and another. The final kiss of many left his lips sealed on Dorian's chest in an oval shape.
He could hear their hearts beating, syncopated and irregular beats throbbing in his ear. The longer he listened, the more his own heartbeat moved to match Dorian's. A steady thrum that comforted him (but also gave him an indication of whether he went too far and needed to stop).
His jaw muscles tightened, bulging at his cheekbones as his fangs pierced through his skin effortlessly. Like biting into a ripe peach the second his jaw loosened he felt blood trickling into his mouth, saturating his tongue and slipping down his throat like the world's finest fortified wine. How was it possible that Dorian tasted even more sumptuous than he had earlier.
As he supped warm, pleasant memories came to his subconscious mind. Walking through wildflower fields on the rolling hills of Wallachia with his mother, following her and seeing her flaxen hair blend into the tall, yellow grasses. Fencing lessons at blinding speed with his father, two sets of similar, pointed-teeth mouths laughing unapologetically at trivial comments. There were so many pleasant memories but all of them suspiciously relegated to his youth, and amidst the golden afternoons and candlelit evenings there was a vision that tried to spoil them. A flash of horror and heartbreak and
humanity.
The nightmare couldn't have been longer than their harmonised heartbeat but maybe a second was enough to see it.
A woman with flaxen hair in the white garb relegated to execution. Frantically struggling against her bindings as fire licked at her thighs and seared her beauty. The stench of burning hair and human meat egging on the crowd as they eagerly screamed at her dying, shouting 'witch' and 'vampire lover'.
Of course Alucard didn't realise he'd shared all this with Dorian, instead his fingers were exploring past his chest and lower down to buckle pulled tight by Dorian's tented trousers. ]
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He had view of a pink mouth opening to further reveal the points of teeth just before they embedded into his flesh in that single, claiming bite. An electric ripple of pain went through him, more intense than the first if only for the tension of suspense built up to this moment. Yet it carried an undercurrent of biting pleasure. Dorian heard himself emit a low whimper pressed behind his own sealed lips. He'd never sounded like that; it was almost alarming.
The act was more intimate than any he'd ever shared. That alone tore Dorian between fear and desperate desire, the want to rescind permission and the want to keep their bodies like this for as long as he could physically stand. The stinging of teeth soon became the throb of his heart leaking blood from the wound onto Alucard's tongue.
And those images, at last, washed over him in a torrent. It was the last which sprung brief, quick tears to his eyes, quickly blinked away, possessed of a despair that did not feel like it belonged to him.
In return Alucard would see a similar reel: a childhood of beautiful things, material wealth, grand sprawling estates and a hot sun, but always with a pervading sense of emptiness. A boy playing alone. A boy surrounded by books, practicing magic to the audience of no one - or the figure of a woman who stood like a rigid statue of beauty in the corner of the room. Glimpses of later tutelage, magical duels, a landscape constantly shifting but always isolated.
The figure of a father, rarer, unsmiling. The words, You are no son of mine, in bright clarity.
Dorian was aware of none of this as his arms encircled Alucard on top of him, the rush of emotion almost too much to bear, a neediness in the way he rolled hips upward and squeezed muscular legs around Alucard's lower body. His skin felt hot. He wanted to be touched. One hand wound into gold hair, cradling the back of Alucard's head where it bent over him. In a ragged voice came out:]
Adrian...
[And he couldn't say whether it was memory of the past or the present that made him choose that particular name.]
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He had to push that thought out of his mind entirely.
His old bedroom with shattered mirrors. A broken bedpost. Trembling hands. Blood. So much black-red vampire blood. And tears, alone in the dark.
He buried that memory deeper than his coffin.
Now a single tear, discoloured with a bloodred hue, rolled down from the corner of his eye, down his cheek quickly to linger on his sharp jawline. He hadn't realised this had happened, however, as his immediate thoughts were all on Dorian's blood. Its rich, sweet vigor blurring bad memories, replacing them with pleasure.
He had made sure not to sink his teeth in too deeply, so when he sensed that the flow of blood was beginning to slow he gave one final suck and released the tender, raw skin. He had meant to sit up at this point but as a delightful, irresistible ring of blood drops, like rubies, blossomed on his chest Alucard couldn't stop himself from dragging his tongue through them. Eyes open and locked on Dorian's. ]
Exquisite.
[ There were so many more words for it, for the exchange, but for now that one would have to do.
He sat up, noticeably tilting his head into Dorian's hand. He allowed himself to enjoy the touch in a sublime, quiet moment; eyes closed and expression relaxed. In all his years he had never felt so connected with another person, if this was all the poison's doing he hoped to God that it was permanent.
Eyes opened again, half-lidded and subdued, as he began to focus properly on that belt buckle which he now opened with ease followed by undoing his trousers and opening them into a revealing V shape. He saw the bulge and his breathing became a little strained, heavier, of course he was besotted with Dorian but the very hard realisation of this being his first time washed over him like hot rain.
Dorian was almost naked at this point while Alucard still hadn't so much as taken off a boot. ]
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