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Armand (vagabond_child) wrote in labyrinth_rpg,

It was only the thought that he was inevitably going to kill his lover if he drank again that kept him from doing just that. It had been a long time since he'd felt this out of control. Before this, he had taken a little from many people in one night, by preference, and sometimes he'd killed, sometimes he hadn't. It was all the same. But Schuldig's blood tasted so sweet, so strong, that it would be all too easy to lose himself completely and drain him.

But that, he wouldn't do. So, with his body shaking, he pulled away. He could still taste his lover on his tongue, but could not, would not, linger on that. So he just smiled up into his lover's face, cupped his face in his hands. And went along more than willingly as Schuldig pulled him towards the bed, though, of course, he could fight it. But why would he want to?

He fell onto the bed, returning the look that Schuldig gave him, just as intense. Schuldig had been trying to communicate something that was hard for him, and Armand sensed that, and nodded just slightly, as if to say 'It's okay, I hear you, I understand, it's perfectly alright'. He smiled slightly. For now, he didn't need the words, either mental or verbal. For now, this was more than enough, more than he could have ever expected to have.

From his position on the bed, he was in a great place to tangle his legs in Schuldig's, which he did. Tugging sharply on their joined limbs, he pulled the redhead down onto the bed, on top of him, and then wound his arms around him. Desperate now, he returned the kiss, so fiercely, and he knew that Schuldig would be able to taste his own blood in Armand's mouth. The idea powerfully excited him, though he had no idea why.