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Armand (vagabond_child) wrote in labyrinth_rpg,
@ 2009-04-21 14:25:00

Entry tags:

armand, complete, day seven, schuldig

Who: Armand and Schuldig
When: Day Seven, dusk
What: No more avoiding each other
Where: Their room
Rating: Armand. Schu. Rated R, at least.
Status: Complete

Armand was lost deep within himself, and had been since the sun had risen earlier that day. Not that Schuldig would really be able to testify to that, since the redheaded telepath and the vampire had pretty much been pretending that the other didn't exist since the nastiness the other night/early morning. That was one of the many things Armand thought about, dreamed about, as he sleep through the daylight hours. What had happened? He still wasn't entirely sure he understood, and he'd been already falling asleep when it had happened.

All he knew was that he'd felt Schu slap him, and though it had hurt exquisitely, he had been too far gone to respond. And then, he'd awoken in his coffin, not in Schuldig's bed. And he could sense anger in the room, knew that his lover was mad at him. He wasn't stupid, he could figure that it had something to do with Juniper, but he was damned if he could understand it beyond that. It worried him, upset him, and made him furious all at the same time.

His thoughts were troubled, and he found himself rising earlier than usual. Usually, night would have to fall fully before his eyes would open. This time, however, the colors of sunset were still in the sky, though the sun itself had set a few minutes ago. He stirred, reached up, and effortlessly pushed the lid of his coffin aside. Before he even sat up, he knew Schuldig was in the room. He could feel his thoughts.

As he rose, he ran his fingers through his hair. It always irritated him, and he normally cut it off, but each night it would grow again the length it had been when he died. So it reached past his shoulders now with gentle curls. Well, he could deal with that in a second. He had scissors in the bathroom. There were more important things to deal with first. He sought out, and found, Schuldig, looking straight it him.

"You aren't getting away tonight, you know. I insist that we have this out." He sounded like a petulant, damanding, spoiled brat, and really, he was.

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sweetlikehoney
2009-04-25 05:38 am UTC (link)

At the mention of the Ranger, Schuldig shook his head. He wasn't angry about that one at all. "I don't care about..." The apology was enough. He couldn't be angry at the vampire for long. But Armand had said it. Love. "You..." He couldn't. No. No, no, no, no, no, no, NO. He wasn't in love. Was he? How could he tell? Did Armand think he was? Was Armand in love with him?

It was all happening too quickly, though, and he found his hair in his lover's hands, earning a soft gasp, and then his neck was being bared, and he shivered, arching it further in invitation. He'd wanted a distraction, and here it was. The fangs broke into his neck, and he moaned at the exquisite pain, and the relief of finally feeling wanted again. His hands found Armand's shoulders and he closed his eyes as he surrendered to the sensations.

He was completely open now, any shields that had been up gone. All the pain and guilt, fear and denial, affection and want, need, and yes, love, were open there for Armand to have. Schuldig, meanwhile, focused on nothing but the pleasure, wanting to just forget, for a little while. He didn't even use the opportunity to see deep into Armand's mind, he just smiled at the fact that he was in his arms again.

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vagabond_child
2009-04-25 11:27 pm UTC (link)

Armand felt the confusion of the telepath, but he didn't understand it. In his world, among those that he knew, at least, there were two sorts. One was like Gabrielle or Pandora, coldly beautiful and aloof, or one was like Armand, Lestat, or Louis, passionate, intense, completely willing to admit to love after a very short time. Schuldig, it seemed, didn't fit into either catagory. This confused him, and he often didn't react very quickly when he was confused.

And anyway, he was distracted. The question of love could wait for later. It wasn't like his feelings for Schuldig were ever going anywhere, after all. He could afford to wait. It had been several days, not without blood, but without Schuldig's blood in particular. He'd almost forgotten how much like a drug it was, how it filled him with strange power that he'd never experienced before, how strong it was. He drank deeply, and only pulled away when he knew he would stand a good chance of killing his lover if he let himself keep going.

This time, along with the waves of pleasure, he had sent his emotions as well. The love, desire, possessiveness, all mixed up together. No fear, just a sort of wonder that it had finally happened to him, he'd finally done what most other vampires seemed to do early on and fallen in love with a mortal. He could feel all the things that Schuldig was thinking, feeling, and it made him gasp softly and pull away from the embrace to look into his lovers gorgeous blue eyes.

"Aren... I..." He shook his head. "No, I shouldn't call you that, I know this, and I know why..." For the same reason he didn't want to be called Amadeo, of course. But he knew he would probably forget again. But it wasn't long before he was rushing forward once more, letting his tongue press against the wounds that were still bleeding lightly, not sucking, though it was a test of his willpower. "I do, you know, you must know that. I do, with everything in me."

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sweetlikehoney
2009-05-01 04:07 am UTC (link)

A quiet sob of pleasure left Schuldig at the emotions and sensations that washed through him as Armand fed from him, an act that was erotic in itself, even without the added telepathy, and mind blowing with. He held his lover close, and then, when Armand stopped, he almost whimpered in disappointment, somewhat addicted already.

He opened his mouth to protest to the use of 'Aren', but blinked and smiled in surprise when Armand corrected himself. "Angel." His breath caught mid word when the vampire's tongue pressed against the fresh wounds, and he started to pull Armand in the direction of the bed. "I know you do. I know."

Threading his hand into Armand's soft, dark hair, he lifted his lover's head to face him and gaze into his eyes again. He had meant to say something, but simply the look that he gave said everything he needed to. It spoke of desperation and hunger and always that underlying confusion and self doubt. It mirrored the emotions that Armand had shown him.

But before he could help himself, he pressed his lips firmly against Armand's in a deep, passionate kiss, and pushed him back on to the bed that they had then reached. The telepath decided not to communicate his emotion mentally or with looks or words, but with touch, and to lose and exhaust himself in the process.

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vagabond_child
2009-05-01 11:57 am UTC (link)

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.

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