Ianto clung to Spike, his head swimming, dizzy with the thrill and blood loss. He rested his head against the tree behind him, a low chuckle escaping him, grinning a bit manically. He'd thought for a moment that Spike wouldn't stop, that he'd drain him dry, and the thrill that had sent running through him was incredible.
He tugged at Spike's duster again, murmuring, "Kiss me. I want to taste." His own blood, what it would be like to kiss a vampire, that sweet gift of still being alive, any of those would do. All of them, maybe.