veilward | THIS THE EMMROOK VARIETY HOUR NOW

Hugh's quick response allayed many of Emmrich's concerns. It didn't seem like anything was being hidden there, but all the same Emmrich nodded happily.

"I'd love to see it, and see if anything lingers there. And spirits do not tend to care about the hours of the day. Either one is present or it is not. They have no need to sleep, and most do not wander if they've found a place they like."

He watched Hugh's gaze travel over him and took a breath, trying not to color. Hugh lingered on his neck, and Emmrich imagined this man covering it with kisses before he could get a handle on his thoughts. Really. He'd been here barely a couple of hours and already he was crushing like a teenager.

The piecemeal payment made sense. One would want to be fed the entire expedition, not just once. Emmrich made a mental note to go over what Hugh would be requesting once they'd reached the boat, since he could pass on the order as soon as they docked. Thankfully nothing about the man suggested he'd be making ridiculous demands. Nice meals were to be expected, but nothing ludicrously extravagant like 7-course feasts on the road into an area of Nevarra that had mostly not been reclaimed.

Hugh's last comment echoed Emmrich's earlier distracted brain, and he met the Warden's gaze. Why not reward what seemed like blatant flirtation? While Hugh was younger than him, they were still adults, still professionals, and it wasn't like either was 'in charge' of this mission.

"So to speak?" he asked. After another sip of his tea Emmrich put his cup down and reached up to undo his collar pin and the collar buttons, letting it hang a bit open. "I don't think you meant it metaphorically."

With a smirk Emmrich picked his tea cup back up and resumed drinking, eyes on Hugh to see what the man's next move was.

"If anyone could find a spirit in this quiet old haunt," Hugh said, his easy smile returning as he reclined in his chair. I do believe you would be perfect for the task."

He then picked up his wine and thoughtfully sipped what remained of it while desperately wishing, with the hunger of a starved man, that it was something else. Some of that hunger escaped from the recesses of his mind and pressed like a phantom at a window behind his eyes. Pupils widened until the amber of his eyes was eclipsed.

Then the collar loosens beyond more than playful words, and Hugh is yanking at the choke chain of his self-control. The pale line of skin revealed shows the faint outline of Emmrich's right jugular vein. His pulse is steady, skin is clear—everything about Emmrich is healthy and tender. Hugh has his jaw clenched to keep his teeth blunted.

"I never was one for metaphors," Hugh forced a nonchalance to his words as he placed his emptied wine glass down and stood, "Would you like me to show you to your room? After a taxing journey, I'm sure you'd need time to unpack, unwind...warm up."

"I look forward to trying," Emmrich said, pleased. That would be an excellent way to spend a morning. Or a mid-morning, if things went how he was hoping they might.

Hugh's eyes did something, pupils expanding, and Emmrich wondered if that had to do with darkness or perhaps Emmrich himself. He was trying to provoke a reaction, after all. And oh, he was getting one.

Emmrich set down his cup and stood up as well. He scooped his pack up off the floor and swung it onto his back. After that he took a step closer in case he was reading the mood correctly. He thought he was.

"I'd like that, if the room's comfortable enough to tempt you to linger a while, and if you're inclined to do so." Metaphors were delightful to play with, language twining together concepts and unleashing the imagination, but there was also a time to be direct. This was that sort of time. Perhaps it would be wise to sleep the first night they'd met and see where things went in the future instead of moving so quickly. Most of the time Emmrich tried to err on the side of wisdom, too. But Hugh was magnetic. Emmrich was drawn to him more than he'd been drawn to anyone in an exceptionally long time, if ever, and he didn't want to pull away.

"Will you offer me your arm again, Hugh?"

Still, waters ran deep, as the saying goes, and beneath that thin veneer of calm, Hugh was a churning maelstrom. Stamping down some primal need that wanted to do away with the pageantry of talking and innuendo and simply devour was taxing, but Hugh had practice in self-control. It was easier because Emmrich is such lovely company, even when his collar was buttoned.

Hugh was at Emmrich's side the moment the other man rose to his feet. Emmrich had such a graceful, almost ethereal way of moving that it was as if he were part spirit himself. Maybe he was a little Fade-touched. Hugh would like to explore that theory intimately.

"It would be my very great pleasure."

Hugh all but purred as Emmrich's fine-boned musician's hands took his proffered arm. Without the armor, he could actually feel the touch of Emmrich's hands. They were slightly calloused, possibly from his stave, but soft as he hoped, with a gentle firmness to his grasp. To the void with caution, he wanted those hands on every inch of him.

"Might I offer a suggestion?"

They're on the second-floor landing leading to the halls of the private quarters. A few lit sconces bathe the pair of them in a soft, dim orange glow, and shadows dance on the dark stone walls and moth-eaten floor runners. Hugh had stopped just outside the door that would be where Emmrich should be staying for the night.

"The fireplace in that room has a terrible habit of taking to long to properly heat a room for how small it is," A little white lie — the fireplace was fine and could make a man sweat in the dead of winter. "I'd hate to be a poor host. What if you unpacked in there and then took my room? I wouldn't want you to feel...cold."

They were on the same page, emphasized by the lowness of Hugh's voice that definitely did things to Emmrich's heart rate. His hands traveled over Hugh's arm as they walked as he confirmed how well the other man must take care of himself to be in this good a shape.

At the suggestion Emmrich raised an eyebrow, only to smile at the suggestion.

"And I did just mention that I'm not used to chillier nights," he said. He didn't step away just yet though. Instead Emmrich moved closer to brush his fingers along Hugh's jawline and steal a soft, brief kiss before parting with a far softer smile.

"I'll only be a moment." Now he slipped into the room. It was already warm, nicely so, and he was absolutely going to ignore that fact. The pack landed on the bed and Emmrich pulled out what he'd change into to sleep, clean smalls and a lined silken nightgown, as well as his toiletries. In the morning he could pull what he was currently wearing on again long enough to return here. He didn't want to linger too long. Briefly, just before leaving, he considered the books he'd brought. No. No, there wouldn't be time for reading, hopefully.

Emmrich emerged with those essentials in one arm and quickly reclaimed Hugh's. "Lead the way, handsome."

The smile Emmrich graced Hugh with at his less subtle overture was promising. The feather-light touch of a gentle hand and an even softer brush of lips against his cheeks was all but confirmation of where the night was leading.

At the risk of being crass, Hugh waited until Emmrich shut the door behind him before a wide grin broke across his face. With a quiet little 'yes' and self-congratulatory jerk of his fisted hand in the air, the night just became markedly better.

Even if it ended up being only the one night. That would be one less night spent cold and alone. Hugh had long since learned to sustain on little and would gladly take what he could. At least Emmrich didn't seem the sort to abandon a partner's bed in the middle of the night. Hugh himself had been guilty of that in his youth, and it never failed to feel wretched.

By the time Emmrich reemerged, Hugh had schooled himself to a more respectable even keel.

"That would be my very great pleasure."

When Emmrich slipped his arm around his, Hugh placed his hand over the one at his elbow, and they made for his room far down the darkened hall.

"Make yourself comfortable while I get the fire stoked. There's wine and a water pitcher on the table if you like."

Hugh's room was large but crowded by a four-poster bed, a desk, a table with chairs, a large fireplace, and a weapons and armor rack. His platemail was displayed alongside a war hammer as tall as a man with a head broader than an ogre's chest. Hugh was hunched by the fireplace, feeding logs into the flame while stealing glances at his company.

This was not where he'd expected this mission to go. He doubted Myrna would have expected this either. But here he was in an ancient fortress with a gorgeous, mysterious man, preparing to work alongside him for a time, and Emmrich had decided to go with the mood.

After a look around the room (and a double take at that hammer,) Emmrich sets his little bundle down on a chair. He pours a glass of water and then contemplates what direction to go here. He had no doubt that Hugh wanted him, but should he be aggressive or play along with the pretense that they were simply going to bed for sleep?

It had been even longer since he played. Why not? He pulled off his coat and hung it on the back of the same chair, unbuttoned his vest and shirt and tugged them off, pulled his nightgown on, and then removed the other layers. He should have brought his fuzzy slippers, alas.

As if the evening was entirely ordinary he made use of the wash basin to clean up, hoping to be interrupted before climbing into bed.

In all honesty, Hugh had been dreading this visit. Ordinarily, when an organization with some renown attached to its name reached out to the Wardens, it was never pleasant. Having fully anticipated some tedious academic sort whose arrogance only rivaled their disdain for Hugh, Emmrich was...not that.

Over the course of an evening, Hugh had been delightfully proven wrong. Emmrich was not some incurious and set in his ways pundit. He immediately came off as lively and excitable at the chance to explore outside his field. Ironic that a necromancer should be the one breathing a bit of life into this old fortress.

Even if they had just retired for the night on more professional terms, Hugh would have enjoyed himself all the same. Emmrich was lovely company, and for the first time in years, he was looking forward to traveling with another. More besides, the night had been more than merely a little friendly.

The fire was stoked, and the room was bathed in a warming light. Only the sound of the crackling wood and the distant howl of the desert winds pelting the stone walls could be heard. Hugh was by the fireplace one moment and behind Emmrich the next.

"Do you always smell this good?" Hugh asked as his hands came to rest at Emmrich's hips and his lips to the back of the taller man's neck.

Emmrich smelled sweetly of lavender and a more masculine spice that Hugh guessed might be sandalwood. Through the nightgown, Hugh noted his figure was lithe with slight but well-defined musculature. Emmrich took care of himself, and the end result was a sleek, pliable body that tasted perfumed and clean.

"I think..." Hugh's hands raked up and down Emmrich's body, exploring him, getting a feel for the other as he kissed each vertebra of his long, elegant neck. "That I've exhausted the patience to uphold any pretense you're in my room just to get out of the cold, Emmrich."

His breath caught at the impossible speed of the man. If he'd still had any doubts that this was a magically altered man, that alone would have dispelled it. The hands resting on his hips reminded him exactly how long it had been since he'd last enjoyed company. Emmrich leaned back, closing his eyes at the gentle kisses and smiling at the question.

"I endeavor to," he replied, sliding his hands back in return, over Hugh's hips and waist, linking them there and holding him close. There was nothing that particularly stood out about Hugh's scent in return -- cheap soap, a little sweat -- but Emmrich knew he paid more attention to small details than most when it came to his person.

Emmrich moaned quietly as Hugh's hands started wandering, bending his head a little forward to allow all the access Hugh could possibly want to the back of his neck.

"Pretense?" he teased. "You're warming me even now, and quite effectively at that. Was that not the plan?" Despite how lovely the kisses are, Emmrich shifts just enough so he can turn his face and kiss the corner of Hugh's mouth. He raises one of his hands to brush through Hugh's hair, admiring the thickness of it.

Normally he took gentle control of a situation like this, but normally there was a longer buildup, more flirtation, and he knew more about his partner. Tonight he felt relaxed and like letting things happen as they would.

"Personally I'd like things to get quite heated, and if that's not the opposite of cold, I have no idea what is." Emmrich cupped Hugh's ass and was quite pleased with how firm it felt, how firm everything felt against him.

Standing in the middle of the room like this, their hands searching across each other's bodies as they swayed slightly together, was a bit like dancing. Hugh had never danced before, bereft of either opportunity or desire to. He would reconsider that stance if it were anything like this.

"Part of the plan, sure."

Hugh huffed an amused chuckle into the nape of Emmrich's neck at the man's running commentary. His teasing was as gentle-natured as the rest of him but hinted at a willingness, if not desire, to indulge in a bit of mischief. The only thing better than Emmrich's interest was the moans Hugh scared out of him. He wanted to know what other lovely sounds could be pulled from those soft, pouting lips.

Then Emmrich turned in his arms and pressed those lips near his own, just close enough that Hugh caught a taste of the other man. Emmrich continued to talk, but it was all drowned out by the white noise of blood rushing between his ears by then. Within the space of a heartbeat, Hugh was moving.

Once in a blue moon, Hugh had an itch to scratch and would have some dalliance that lasted no longer than a night. He never felt the urge to feed then and certainly didn't reveal as much to his fly-by-night partner. Only here, now, with this perfect (wonderfully perfect) stranger from Nevarra, Hugh found himself craving more than a simple fuck to chase away another lonely night.

With Emmrich's grabbing at his ass, it was enough room for Hugh to surge forward. His hands shot forward, gripping the edge of the table with his weight pushing Emmrich against it. A loud crashing followed as the old furniture wobbled against the force of it, knocking over the water jug and sending it shattering on the floor at their feet. Hugh hadn't so much as flinched as he tucked in his head and trailed nipping kisses up the pale column of Emmrich's throat as he tugged at the buttons of the man's nightgown.

Emmrich groaned as he was shoved against the table, almost onto the table so he was half-sitting on it. The sudden switch to rough urgency was very much not normally how he went about things, but he found he wasn't against it. Unfamiliar didn't necessarily mean bad, or wrong.

Hugh was making excellent progress opening up his nightgown so Emmrich started to urge the man's shirt out of his pants and opening that up in return. Thrilling, the urgency which rushed through his body now, the speed of desire and need building in his veins.

"Yes," he moaned as the kisses went upward. He scrabbles at an aggressive push, putting a hand back behind him for support and finding something sharp with a finger and wincing briefly before deciding to just ignore it. It was a little cut, nothing serious.

The table might have groaned louder than Emmrich. The damned thing was likely older than their combined ages — it, like everything else here, was a sad artifact of all the shortlived commanders before. What part of Hugh's mind could still string together a coherent thought noted that this wouldn't be the best place to continue. While Emmrich yanked the hem of his shirt free of his trousers, Hugh twisted his grip on the front of the silken nightgown and pulled the other forward.

Only as soon as he had the tinkling sound of broken glass being agitated on the table's surface caught his attention. Hugh stiffened with Emmrich still in his arms. The wince he felt shudder through the other man's body earlier hadn't been from anticipation. With the glass agitated on the table, the tiniest droplet of blood left behind is a shockwave to Hugh's senses. Hugh pulled away.

His gaze falls down to the pinprick of blood on a shard of glass on the table, then to the small cut across Emmrich's index finger. Emmrich must have taken off his jewelry. Now, there was only a thin line of scarlet adorning his slender hand.

Hugh's mouth opened and closed like he was chewing on the words he wanted to say—or from the way his nostrils flared, tasting the air. Against the low light of the fire, shadow cast across his face, Hugh's eyes briefly shimmered with the reflected glow. The black of his pupils widened, engulfing the warm amber of his eyes.

Then he blinked. Hugh shook his head like a wet dog as he looked momentarily dazed before taking another step back.

"I—" He began cautiously, hands raised to waist level like he was readying himself for retaliation of some kind. "Before, ah, before this goes any further. We should talk."

He was pulled back against Hugh and then even more suddenly Hugh was gone, backing away and Emmrich was left without table or a body to lean on and slightly stunned. Hugh's eyes looked odd again, briefly. Perhaps it wasn't related to the light after all. Whether it was or wasn't, it seemed like Emmrich was probably going to be headed back to his room shortly here. Something had made Hugh pull back and stop.

Emmrich blinked to try to clear his mind, blindly finding one of the chairs behind him to use for some sort of support. It was needed as he came down from the previously building high. He looked equally dazed, nightgown open all the way down to his stomach, off one shoulder and threatening to fall off the other.

"Yes?" he croaked before clearing his throat. "All right." About what he had no idea, but it wasn't like he was going anywhere or doing anything else precisely at the moment. He could gather up his things once some things were a little more... settled down.

Edited 2025-02-22 01:21 (UTC)

The space between them was within arm's reach, but the gap felt cavernous as they both stood there, half-undressed and mirroring each other's stupified expressions. Hugh rocked on the balls of his feet as he tugged on the hem of his rumbled, untucked shirt to occupy his hands. Restless he tried to think of even where to start. Desperate to keep his attention off the little red rivulets beading on Emmrich's finger or the elegant slope of the man's exposed shoulders.

"Right." Hugh rubbed at the back of his neck and gave Emmrich an expression that was strangely bashful for all his earlier bravado.

"I'm unaware of how much you knew coming here, but obviously, this isn't the way of things when seeking aid from the Order."

Or rather, Hugh hoped that it was apparent. He shuddered to think Emmrich would have been led to believe this was commonplace. Emmrich didn't seem the sort to judge, but Hugh found himself strangely twisted up in knots over Emmrich's opinion of him. This part was never easy — either he had to explain himself and what he was. Or the people desperate enough to come this far out here knew and had already deemed him a monstrous last resort.

"We Wardens keep many secrets," Hugh began, carefully choosing his words."Highest among them is how we're set apart. The process is dangerous, and not all who undergo what it takes to join our order survive. Rarer still is that some of us who do survive are further altered. It's not fully understood even after all these centuries, but what's gained far outweighs the cost...but there is a cost.

"To be able to work more effectively than most Wardens, it's not simply food that sustains us."

Hugh was staring at Emmrich's bleeding hand again. This time, when his lips parted, pronounced canines were visible. Long enough to brush his lower lip, he closed his mouth again in a nervous grimace when his eyes met Emmrich's once more.

"I've never—not with anyone I've worked with. It's not like that, really," Hugh was stumbling over his words and knew it but couldn't stop himself. "I don't want you to think I've brought you to my room under false pretenses. There is a price to my services, but the right way of things is only a little and never, uh...intimately taken."

Rubbing at the back of his neck, Hugh stared down at the floor.

"I don't know how long you'll need my help, but you've a right to know you're working with a monster...let alone almost bedding one."

The man before him was so different from the man he'd met earlier, nervous and fidgety, careful and hesitant. Emmrich listened to him carefully, searching for the reason for the dramatic change, and then searching for what the man was saying since Hugh wasn't saying it outright. Monster, though. That's a very heavy word, and in Emmrich's experience no one who actually was a monster called themself one.

He ran back what Hugh was saying, along with the flash of sharper teeth. Food, but not intimate. The lingering stare at Emmrich's hand. The timing with pulling away. It fit yet another legend, but one he'd never considered to have any basis in reality. It fit vampirism. Only once had Emmrich come across a mention of the condition, in a book that was filled with realistic and made-up conditions and beings, and he'd heard nothing since. Then again, the Grey Wardens were known for having secrets. If becoming a vampire, a blood drinker, was a rare side effect of the Joining, of course they'd cover it up.

Emmrich reached out with his non-bleeding hand, resting it on Hugh's shoulder. "Firstly. At no time did I think that intimacy was a required part of getting Warden assistance. If there'd been an implication of that, I would not be the one here. There are other Watchers who would be interested in that sort of a price. Secondly, I have known many monsters in my time, Hugh. Some shaped like a person, some not. They do not consider themselves or their actions monstrous."

Now for the theory, which felt a little silly to bring up, but at least if he was wrong they could share a laugh about it.

"Are you what's known as a vampire? Is that why you've reacted as you have? And how little?" Emmrich looked down at the cut. That counted as a little, but was it too little?

Hugh continued to stand there, rigid, save for the nervous twitches as his fingers played at the hem of his fatigues. Strangely, this habit worsened after his Joining. Hugh suspected it was the heightened senses that made him more easily set off and keyed up. The only thing keeping the worst of it at bay was the fact Emmrich hadn't run out into the room.

Emmrich's hazel-green eyes assessed him as Hugh stood there and tried not to let the anticipation rattle him. He had been all but prepared to bolt out of the room and hoped to work his way through an awkward apology in the morning when Emmrich reached out. Hugh stiffened at first but relaxed almost immediately when it was clear Emmrich's gesture was a comforting one.

"Oh."

Was all his managed, at first. Flat-footed and slackjawed by the magnanimity and understanding Emmrich so quickly extended to him. It would be ungracious to Emmrich to say that was wholly unexpected but Hugh couldn't shake off the surprise right away.

"I—" He cleared his throat. "Yes, but we've only ever called ourselves Wardens. I actually don't know where the word 'vampire' came from, but we've always considered it a bit...overly romantic with fanciful notions."

A self-conscious chuckle followed before Hugh followed Emmrich's gaze and said, more soberly,

"Depends on the circumstances. No more than a thimble's worth if I've fed in recent days, and if I haven't and I've been weakened somehow, then enough to fill a small goblet. Anything more dire, well..."

Hugh frowned, "...it rarely comes to that, and never with a job."

His hand loosely goes around Emmrich's wrist, thumb stroking the back of his hand as he offers a shy smile.

"A little means only that, but I don't want to make you feel obligated. I understand it can be a lot to ask of someone."

Overly romantic with fanciful notions could easily wind up being the tagline for Emmrich's eventual autobiography, he was fairly certain. Emmrich didn't dwell on the thought, for all that it was briefly amusing. He was far too focused on Hugh's words and expressions. The man was clearly insecure about what he was even though he had no control over it. Compelling, how he needed blood, how there was, in fact, an obligation to it since the Watch needed his help, and how he resisted what he needed and was owed. It made agreeing to this so easy.

"I don't feel obligated," Emmrich said honestly. He raised his hand, offering it out. While it was probably short of what could fill a thimble, there was no point in wasting what he'd simply wash off anyway if Hugh wanted it.

"And the other's a shame," he teased with a smile. "I have quite the weakness for what others deem overly romantic."

This had turned odd, and far from how he'd expected at any turn, but Emmrich had a feeling the evening could still be salvaged. Hugh's smile and reticence to pressure him were both encouraging signs, and it wasn't like Emmrich's interest had waned.

"That..." Hugh sighed with evident relief, his shoulders dropping what little tension he still carried as a measure of confidence thawed his reticence. "Is quite the relief, you've no idea."

Emmrich was an intelligent man, but he likely had no idea what a balm his words were. He had just been handed irrefutable proof that not only were vampires real, but he was not indebting himself to one with his own blood. Most would have turned tail then and would have been right to do so. Instead, Emmrich took everything in stride and gracious poise. Perhaps it was lived experience, or simply Emmrich possessed a breadth of empathy that was rarer in Thedas than vampires.

Hugh leaned in closer, eyes alit with that earlier spark of mischief. He had expected to pick up where they left off, to feel Emmrich's lips against his own. Instead, he was presented with Emmrich's bloodied hand. Hugh stilled, warily eyeing the small rivulet of blood that had run from Emmrich's finger to his wrist.

"I- you're sure?"

He looked back at Emmrich again for confirmation while trying to pretend the coppery scent wasn't just as heady and intoxicating as the other's floral-perfumed skin. When he couldn't sense a note of resistance from Emmrich, assured this was being offered freely, Hugh stopped holding back.

Slow at first, Hugh drew Emmrich's wrist to his lips. He pressed the flat of his tongue where the blood stopped and licked upward in one smooth motion until he was sucking the cut digit into his mouth to the knuckle. Mouth pooling with the sweet, almost peppery taste of his craving, Hugh moaned. His vision went unfocused as he sucked and savored Emmrich's beating essence. Blood was blood, but it had never strayed from being a mere necessity to something more, far more.

"Emmrich..." Hugh practically whined, fangs scraping skin but not even to cut. He was wanton but refused to let his control falter. This was too wonderful to ruin.

He could imagine, with how Hugh had referred to himself, how hesitant he'd been, and the way his body language shifted, just how much of a relief it was. Everyone deserved kindness in their lives, and Emmrich was getting the feeling Hugh had seen it rarely. How little it cost to offer this up and by so doing, offer comfort as well.

Emmrich relaxed as Hugh moved carefully. Neither, he assumed, wanted to startle the other. All the same, Emmrich was not prepared, not for the slide of Hugh's tongue, and especially not for Hugh's reaction as he sucked on on Emmrich's finger. He shuddered at the sound of his name, spoken so desperately. This was the most erotic sight he'd seen in perhaps ever.

It was suddenly very clear that they were too far apart. Emmrich closed the distance between them again, pulling Hugh's hips toward him with his free hand. He had needs too.

"Hugh," he said breathlessly. "Kiss me again? Please." Until and unless the man did, Emmrich was pressing kisses Hugh's temple, cheek, jaw, neck, anywhere he could. His nightgown gave up the fight on his shoulder, both sides slipping down to end up hanging from his bent elbows. As he wouldn't pull his hand away from Hugh for just about anything, it could stay there.

Mindful that for any experience Emmrich might have had, Hugh was sure this at least was new to him and let Emmrich's fingers slide out of his mouth. Whatever Emmrich's threshold for pain hadn't mattered, Hugh knew it was the little cuts that hurt something awful when irritated. A fat thread of saliva ran the length between fingertip to tongue was slick and pinkish from the blood before it smeared on Hugh's chin.

"Glady."

Hugh still had that dreamy look and a lopsided grin plastered on his face as the remaining distance between them closed. He grunted softly when the jut of his pelvis slotted against Emmrich's. With no great effort on his part, Hugh could have hoisted Emmrich up single-handed and had him anywhere in this room within an instant. Instead, he reveled in being touched and kissed. It was a gentleness he'd never known before. An intimacy greater than nights stolen with anonymous, forgotten faces.

When their lips meet, and Hugh's tongue slips into Emmrich's mouth, there's still a faint iron tang of blood that soon fades. At some point, Hugh pulled at his own shirt and shucked it off his shoulders onto the floor. His hands return to Emmrich's nightgown, pulling in a blind rush to get it off. Hugh made a soft, frustrated noise at his lack of progress, unaware he was taking small steps backward.

The back of his thighs hit the foot of his bed and Hugh let go before he fell back onto the mattress. Propped on his elbows, Hugh looked up at Emmrich with a disarmingly boyish, laid bare look of anticipation that jarred with his heavily scarred and inked appearance.

"Take that off," Hugh more asked than demanded, given the hint of desperation bleeding into his words. "Come here."

Hugh was gorgeous, only emphasized by the soft look on his face though Emmrich was a little distracted from that by how slick his finger had been left. He needed to not let his imagination run ahead of them. This had turned soft and sweet, bizarrely considering the whole vampire thing, and Emmrich was in no rush.

The suddenly deep kiss drew a quiet moan from Emmrich and he melted into it. Hugh was on his own fumbling with their clothing because all he wanted was to dwell on the tangle of their tongues and the way Hugh felt against him, broad and warm. And then Hugh slipped away. Emmrich blinked down at him, eyes roving over the man's powerful and decorated body.

Mischief glinted in his eyes at the requests, and he complied. Emmrich dropped his arms and let the nightgown fall off, revealing a tented pair of dark blue silk smalls. He stepped out of the gown and climbed onto the bed, straddling Hugh's lap before leaning down to briefly press their lips together.

"Better?" he asked. Emmrich trailed his fingers along one scar on Hugh's front, eyes following, before he caught himself. Hugh might be self-conscious of his scars. Some were. "Is it all right if I touch you like this? Your body is incredible."

Right away, Hugh pulled himself further up the bed, keeping his eyes focused on Emmrich. The amber of his eyes darkened as silk slid down the other man's body. His mouth parted, revealing his tongue as it ran along the dagger-sharp edge of one of his elongated canines. The sight of Emmrich's arousal had him practically salivating. There was unmasked hunger in his eyes, and this soon after a feeding, it came from pure want over necessity. Something about Emmrich made him voracious.

"Gorgeous..." Hugh breathed out when Emmrich settled onto his lap.

Back to the headboard now, Hugh puts his hands on Emmrich's thighs. He thumbed under the hem of Emmrich's smalls, playing with its give. Still in his trousers, his own arousal was trapped underneath padded leather and becoming rapidly uncomfortable.

"Touch me anywhere, all you like," Hugh answered a bit breathlessly when his hips rolled involuntarily, seeking any kind of relief.

Hugh's teeth were still changed. Emmrich never would have thought for a moment that he might be into the suggested danger of that, but perhaps the obvious care Hugh had taken to explain and not over-react to Emmrich's earlier cut was why he felt safe. More than safe.

He closed his eyes briefly as Hugh played with the hem of his last piece of clothing, but it was clearly just a bit of teasing. That was quite all right. Emmrich could work with teasing, and return it just as easily, shifting to his knees so Hugh got no friction at all.

"Good," he said with the most innocent smile he could manage. Emmrich traced along the edge of a tattoo up to Hugh's chest before palming one nipple. Maker, the man was entirely muscle, wasn't he. This was the first time someone quite so built had caught his eye, and there was so much to meet his eyes already.

"And likewise." He could see how Hugh was looking at him, and it went straight to his cock, much like Hugh's gaze. Emmrich bent forward to kiss where Hugh's jaw met his neck. "Do touch me," he murmured there.

"Tease," Hugh rasped as the sensitive bud of his nipple was touched in a way that had him holding back a gasp. Even still, he canted his head to allow Emmrich at his neck. It was a bit ironic, all things considered, but Hugh was undoubtedly enjoying himself.

The part of Hugh worried Emmrich would think twice about all of this and bolt right in the middle of things quieted. Emmrich had proven himself unfailingly kind and, despite enormous revelations in a short span of time, willing to spend the night with a blood-hungry beast. The very least Hugh could do was acquiesce to any and all demands to touch when asked as sweetly as Emmrich had.

This close, Hugh's own mouth was right on Emmrich's shoulder—more than once, fangs ghost against soft, sweet-smelling skin but only the faintest hint. Hugh could behave when prompted, and Emmrich could make lovely sounds without needing a little nip.

He wanted to elicit a bit more neediness in that proper voice of his. Reaching between them, Hugh's hand slid from Emmrich's thigh to roughly press the heel of his palm to the man's clothed erection. Like the rest of him, Emmrich's cock felt slender. If he hadn't already had it in mind to thoroughly fuck Emmrich into the mattress, he would have loved to have that inside him.

"Top drawer of the nightstand," Hugh weakly nodded to the right side of the bed where Emmrich was closest. "Green bottle, grab that for me. Would you, love?"

He laughed at the accusation. Teasing was not just delightful, but incredibly powerful, so long as there was an intent to follow up and he would easily admit to teasing. The buildup, the anticipation, only heightened the experience.

Hints of sharp teeth served as teasing too, and he shivered as they brushed his shoulder yet again. It was the illusion of danger. Even if Hugh did bite, Emmrich had faith at this point that the man wouldn't go too far. He hadn't lost control with the little bit of blood earlier, and had even taken the opportunity to explain what was going on.

Emmrich's analysis of the situation was very effectively shut down by Hugh fondling him. He whimpered, grinding into the press. His desire and voice took on the first note of urgency since he'd gotten cut; Emmrich needed the man below him.

...The man who dropped the word 'love' with such casualness. The longing that stirred up in Emmrich's heart had him turning his head as he reached for the bottle, trying to hide what an effect it had on him. Hugh didn't mean it. They'd known each other for a scant few hours. Emmrich had even told himself he was done looking for love, he was fine, and yet hearing the word showed him how much he'd been lying to himself. He could not allow himself to fall, though. There wasn't a chance a gorgeous young Warden would be interested in an old professor for long. No. This would be lovely during the mission and then Hugh would leave without a glance back, because of course he would.

Emmrich swallowed as he shifted back and stretched to open the drawer. The first bottle his questing fingers found turned out to be green, and he offered it out before leaning down to press kisses to Hugh's collarbone, anything to avoid meeting those gorgeous amber eyes. Anything to avoid thinking.

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