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"I am curious," was the first thing Goro said, picking up the cutlery next to the dish in front of him.
As always, the smell of the food was mouthwatering, and he couldn't suppress the pleased hum when he cut into the steak. He'd expected it to be bloody, to tease and taunt him with the nature of his host - as if he could forget - but what met him was a perfect medium. He should probably know better by now, but he couldn't help the familiar suspicion that arose from time to time.
"Do you even need to eat, or is this just a show to put me at ease?"
A legitimate question, because even now, the creature across from him wasn't eating but busy watching. One hand propped up on an elbow to balance his chin, the other absent-mindedly holding a glass of wine. A nail tapping an idle melody, whenever Akira got lost in thought.
Dark eyes flicked from where Goro was guiding the fork into his mouth, to the still empty plate in front of him. An almost lazy grin stretched out across his face as he answered the question.
"I can eat."
And as if to demonstrate, he reached for a fork, speared a piece of potato directly from one of the tastefully arranged platters in the middle of the table and brought it to his mouth.
"None of us are sure if we have to, and it does taste a little blander than before, but that's what we have spices for."
Goro quietly filed the information away. As he always did when Akira revealed more about existence as a vampire. The question if the word spices included or excluded garlic was swallowed with the next bite before he asked a different one.
"Then why aren't you eating?"
The first time he'd been here in this very seat, he'd been convinced the food might be poisoned, and he remembered that Akira had eaten the same things as him, probably to put him at ease.
Now, Akira just smiled, took a sip from his glass and made no move to start eating.
"Maybe I already did, and now I'm here to enjoy your company."
As if. Goro was an intruder, no matter how often he visited the sprawling castle.
The collar around his throat a constant reminder, from the moment he had to put it on when entering the territory of the vampires, until he could leave again.
As a sign, they had said, to not see him as an enemy. To let everyone know he was off limits. An ally. As if the bloodsuckers had anyone they trusted.
It just made him into a dog wearing a collar, that was allowed to sit at the table, as long as he could behave himself.
In this case, literally.
Even though none of the jokes Akira had made about him being a werewolf were demeaning. The jokes about vampires were a lot more mean-spirited, the stories often featuring the failures of the ones that saw it necessary to comment on the presence of a werewolf in their halls.
It was one of the arguments Goro cited for coming back to this table, telling himself that he was gathering intel for whenever they might need it.
Even though he'd already started to accept that his reasons were far simpler.
He'd been entranced by Akira from the moment they'd met.
A meeting that happened months ago, when he'd given over his satchel with letters, taking an identical one to deliver back, but not looking forward to the journey. The rain had picked up in intensity during his wait. Hail was pelting against the stone outside, his ears sensitive enough to pick up the muffled sounds of it. Sheets of water cascading down the windows that even during the day only let in the barest hints of sunlight.
But there was no reason to linger. There never had been before, and his presence was already considered a threat, no matter how much their factions pretended to tolerate the other.
"You should stay for dinner. Or at least until the storm lessens."
The quiet but firm voice had stopped him in his tracks, neither his ears nor his nose having registered the newcomer until they'd started to talk.
As if the words had honed his senses to the presence of the other, the faint smell of blood was now the first thing that clued him into the vampiric nature of his observer. No matter how much some vampires tried to cover it up, he was unable to miss it.
The rest of the scent only hit him seconds after he got accustomed to it and could focus on what was underneath. Coffee, and a lot of it at that. It had made him later awkwardly joke about the other's coffin being filled with it, only to be greeted with a secretive smile, and then the most divine cup he'd ever had in his life.
But that had come later. As well as him uncovering more and more nuances in the vampire's scent until he was sure he could pick him out of a crowd blindfolded. Until he couldn't wait to be close to it again, breathing it in, his senses overwhelmed and calmed at the same time, by something that was uniquely Akira.
This first meeting had been a tipping point, the scales starting to tilt. So slow, he'd never noticed the ground was moving, until he'd started to slide. Until it was already too late.
Akira had been shrouded in shadows next to a pillar in the vast hall, as if he wanted to be overlooked.
And Goro had been wary, pale otherworldly beauty often enough used as a trap against his kin, the words not convincing him that he wouldn't be the main course. Not that it stopped him from following the creature, taking note of everything he could see, ready to defend himself if needed.
But nothing had happened. No dog bowl on the floor to mock him, no fresh corpse staring up at him from the table, no attack by starved vampires to make an example of him. Only a delicious dinner with light conversation. Him testing the vampire with questions that either got thrown back at him or responses that piqued his curiosity or surprised him with their insight and wit.
Even the bedroom he'd been escorted to had been nice. But not enough of his wariness had been eradicated by the previous hours. He was still expecting some treachery by the vampire, no matter how alluring he was.
Sleep had been sparse. But again, nothing had happened. He left the castle safe and sound. Untouched. Sure that he was not imagining the increased respect when he passed the vampires manning the entrance carrying the satchel with the letters.
It took several visits, until he met Akira again, and was in turn invited to another dinner.
Goro saw no reason to refuse.
Things evolved from there.
Playful conversations, jokes and anecdotes being heavily censored at times but nonetheless flowing freely, and he genuinely felt like he was getting to know the other.
Slowly gaining an insight into the infighting that apparently dominated most of this isolated vampire society. Petty disagreements growing into insurmountable conflicts and influencing their internal politics. As if it was their preferred method to stave off the boredom of eternal life.
Something not even Akira could opt-out of as long as he was an inhabitant of the castle. Never telling him any of the details, but he could read between the lines.
That sometimes their dinners couldn't happen, because he needed to recover from the latest bout of conflict and manipulation. Not that he ever called it that.
Instead he tried to make light of the repeating situation, talking and laughing while becoming more and more pale.
It had gone so far that at one point, Goro had offered himself. Feeling as if that might erase the debt he kept adding to whenever they spent time together, hurtling towards a resolution, but never arriving there.
But instead of taking the hint and this one last step, Akira had refused to take his blood. Repeatedly.
Citing lack of hunger or other available food sources.
Which seemed to be true, because sometimes between visits, the bruises under his eyes lessened and his movements became languid and seductive instead of sluggish. Lessening, but never completely vanishing. And in Goro's opinion, getting worse again over time.
Except on the one single occasion, when Akira had once more shown up looking like the corpse he was and Goro hadn't accepted his excuses. Using his strength and speed, far surpassing Akira's in his sorry state to round the table and press him back into the chair.
He'd been too hurt and weak to say no when Goro had already sliced through his own skin, the blood dripping from his wrist kissing the vampire's mouth.
With a sound that had started to haunt Goro in his more pleasant dreams, Akira had lunged for the source of the blood, and the bite had stung less than the knife did.
He tried not to think about the bliss he'd felt when the blood had left his body, Akira finally giving in to the siren call he’d so adamantly resisted until then.
But the memory of that evening lingered. How Goro had become more and more lightheaded, unable to stop the creature sucking his blood even if not doing so would spell his doom. Elation and arousal had filled him, until he'd been sure he was the one taking instead of giving.
And when Akira had pulled away, catching the last drops of blood before deciding to drag his tongue across the skin to seal the puncture wounds, Goro had been the one to make a sound of protest. Ready to give so much more, if only Akira let him.
Reminiscing about it had at first been embarrassing. In the moment, it had felt like the only thing that mattered. And even shortly after, with Akira thanking him, licking his lips as if he was trying to catch the last of Goro's taste, he'd have gladly bared his neck for him.
But the vampire withdrew once the wounds had closed, leaving only some raised skin and redness behind.
And Goro had been entranced by how the skin beneath his hands had become warmer, how the pale cheeks had gained some color and flushed, a clarity having returned to the dark red eyes he'd missed so much during their last few meetings.
Now a constant in his idle fantasies, was the wish to repeat the action, to receive and give the same bliss that had been burning up his insides. It felt like submitting to his more base nature, no longer holding the roaring, clawing part of himself at bay that he'd always been so detached from.
How ironic that a vampire had finally made him feel like the wolf he was.
Even after that evening, Akira never divulged to him how often he fed or if it was an acceptable amount for a vampire. Goro doubted it. Because for a while, he'd clearly made sure not to be too hungry whenever Goro was nearby. As if to prevent a repeat performance. As if Goro's blood hadn't been good enough.
It was infuriating.
Even more infuriating was the fact that Goro realized how much he had come to care for the maddening and enigmatic creature. Actually looking forward to his next visit, and hoping that there was no reason for the exchange of letters between their factions to ever cease.
Probably the reason why he hadn't pressed the issue, content to still be allowed their dinners after his transgression. If there was a punishment for forcing blood on a vampire, no one had ever mentioned it to him, and he wasn't sure how much suspicion questions along that line would raise.
His long silence during the current meal hadn't been understood as an insult, and he took the loss in their banter as gracefully as he could, swallowing another bite past his itching fangs.
Another side-effect of his actions. His instincts cycling between prey and mate, not being able to distinguish between the two whenever he was near Akira.
And as if this one breach of boundaries had Goro attuned to the other's condition, he now had a unique sense for when Akira was starving himself. With this new knowledge, seeing the signs was as easy as breathing. Face paler than it should be, purple shadows under his eyes that were badly concealed by his hair. A slight shake to the fingers holding the wine glass he couldn't fully disguise by supporting his elbow on the table.
Not to mention the fact that they hadn't been able to hold a full conversation during the last few meetings, with the way Akira seemed to lose his train of thought. Humming instead of answering or giving cryptic smiles, when usually, he would utter a small comeback instead. Or introduce topics that might catch Goro's interest.
This meal went by almost silently, and as always when it happened, Goro loathed the quiet.
Exactly the opposite of what he had hoped to achieve with his questions.
It ended with the longest sentence spoken by Akira this evening.
"You should retire, it's getting late. And you have letters that need to be delivered."
Too soon, far too soon in comparison to when they usually ended the night in comfortable silence. Sun peeking over the horizon, letting Goro know that he would start the journey to his pack's territory late during the day.
Right now, it wasn't even midnight. And no one had ever cared about the time he left or arrived with the letters. Just that he did, without causing an incident that would threaten the fragile truce they'd been maintaining. They had been fools to trust him with that.
While he'd been thinking, Akira had risen from his seat and made his way over. Stopping next to him, as he always did, waiting to escort him to his room, either not trusting the other vampires to let Goro wander around on his own, or not trusting Goro to do the wandering.
Opening his mouth after a second, as if to say something. Thank Goro for his company, or apologize for being a lousy one in turn.
But whatever he was about to say never left his mouth, his gaze instead straying down to Goro's neck. Where the collar rested against his throat.
He always tried to be less conscious of the pressure and the feel of coarse leather against his skin, knowing that the alternative was not being allowed into the castle or the grounds surrounding it. Being torn apart by one of the vampire patrols that were just waiting for the opportunity. It worked, most of the time.
Right now, with those dark eyes resting on it, Goro couldn't help but feel it shift every time he moved his head or his shoulders, every swallow a reminder at how restricted he was.
Akira had once apologized for it, not seeing the necessity, when everyone here could recognize his blood by smell and his heartbeat by sound alone.
He'd taken it as a platitude at the time, thinking that it was the polite thing to say at the moment.
Knowing Akira now, he was certain the sentiment must have been true.
Fingertips he hadn't expected and thus surprised him, suddenly rested on the collar. Akira's gaze was still fixed on it, as if he was thinking of hooking them beneath it and drawing Goro up and closer. Goro was sure that he would move with the motion. If only Akira dared.
But he did nothing of the sort, fingers flexing for a moment, but then withdrawing, as if he couldn't hear the rhythm of Goro's heart beating out of his chest in anticipation.
And Goro had enough.
Enough of whatever this dance between them was supposed to be. Enough of offering and getting rejected, when he saw his own want mirrored in red eyes that darkened further and further, almost black at times. And he knew, he knew, it wasn't just hunger responsible for the change.
To hell with being patient and waiting for something that was happening at a glacier's pace.
With a growl, he seized said glacier by the arm. Fast enough that a lone sound of surprise was all that could escape him. Then he used his unoccupied arm to sweep whatever he could reach from the table. Slamming Akira face down on it with another growl. Immediately pressing down onto his neck to keep him still.
The fact that he had been able to do so, without any retaliation, effectively surprising the vampire, was enough proof of how weakened he was.
"What are you doing?"
When Akira finally tried to resist, it was almost lethargic, and Goro simply increased the pressure he had on his neck.
"Be a good boy, and stay."
Taking a kind of perverse glee in using the words that had been used so often against him. Lately, most often behind his back by the vampires that saw him come and go, when before it had been his own father throwing the phrase around as if he wasn't surrounded by a whole pack of shapeshifters.
But Akira had never done so. A realization like a flash that caused him to loosen his grip in reflex.
"Akechi-"
Only to clamp down again, when Akira tried to use the lapse in control to slip away, groaning at the increased force Goro employed to make it clear he wouldn't go anywhere.
He ignored all of his efforts, leaning down until he was blanketing the vampire's body with his own, and only one of his hands was needed to restrain him.
His knife was now on the floor, so he needed to use something else to open up his veins. Luckily, other preferable tools were always close.
With an indulgent hum, he brought his right arm up, only pausing to consider how he was going to go about this. Simply tearing into his wrist wouldn't do. Instead, he decided to drive one eager fang through his skin, carving a path until he could taste the faintest amount of blood welling up. The moment the scent of the blood hit the air, he could feel Akira go rigid under him, obviously having smelled what was going on.
Before he could say anything to try and dissuade him, Goro stretched out his arm on the table, presenting his bleeding wrist to Akira, a few centimeters away from his face and mouth. Watching the blood pearl down and gather on the wooden surface.
Growling again, he moved as close to Akira's ear as possible before voicing his demand.
"Drink."
For a second, Goro thought he would. Could see the way his head was angled towards his wrist and how he focused on the puddle that the liquid now formed.
Maybe it could be this easy.
But of course it wasn't. Otherwise it wouldn't be the stubborn idiot that happened to occupy too many of his thoughts.
Because instead of taking what was so freely offered, Akira turned his head away, as if he was a toddler refusing a meal.
With a sigh that hopefully got across all of the frustration that had accumulated at Akira's behavior, he reached out and buried his hand in the other's hair, yanking on it and ignoring the pained noises the action elicited until he had him facing the wound again. The puddle under it had grown in the meantime, nearly touching the other's chin as he was shoved towards it.
"I said Drink. I'm not above forcing you again."
And he meant it. One could have called it a sudden revelation, if he hadn't realized several meetings ago that he wasn't going to watch Akira suffer anymore. Not when he could help. Not when as a werewolf, his blood replenished faster than that of any possible other victim.
Akira wriggled against his grip. But that was about all he could do. Too weak to fight back, making Goro click his tongue in irritation. Usually, on the few occasions that they dared to spar, Akira would have already twisted out of his hold, danced out of the way while still facing him, trying not to aggravate his instincts even more. His nature demanded a chase when his prey escaped him. Didn't matter what that prey was, and what situation exactly it escaped from.
And Akira's refusal to take things further, be it through feeding on him or finally giving in to the tension that was undeniably there, translated to such a chase in his mind.
Maybe they could repeat this, with a different outcome, one that would let him give into his instincts and urges, to run and herd his prey like he wanted, feeling alive while being on the hunt under the moon.
Fantasies for another time.
Even though this might have been it. Once might be forgiven, counted as a lapse of judgment, a simple mistake, assuming to know better than his vampire host. But twice was a conscious transgression, a deliberate choice.
Maybe if he let go now, apologized and groveled, he could escape possible harsher consequences.
But the part of him that had snapped and taken control, decided that this was enough. Let him be punished, he'd been through worse for following orders, so being punished for doing what he thought was the right thing would be a novelty.
The moment a tongue began to lap at his wrist, almost as if curiously tasting the blood seeping out and onto the table, he was sure the victory was his.
He'd gotten him this far. Dutifully cleaning his skin and the wood before him, until there was no trace left, except the fresh liquid spilling from the wound.
Surely he wouldn't hesitate to properly feed on him now.
But as if reading his thoughts and deciding to be as aggravating as possible, Akira stopped. Put his head down as much as the grip in his hair allowed, and tried to avert his gaze. Not that it worked, his eyes straying back to the wound before he got a hold of himself once more.
Goro simply shook the mop of hair to get Akira's attention.
"Don't try to tell me that was enough."
There was more strength behind the movement than before when Akira tried to throw him off this time, but he was still a werewolf that had been well-fed against a vampire that must have been starving himself for months.
"I don't want-" Akira hissed out between gritted teeth, which Goro interrupted with another, harder shake. He wasn't about to listen to flimsy justifications that he could refute easily.
"Don't lie to me."
The barely there fight drained out of Akira's form once more, and he almost deflated against the table with a sigh, before he suddenly bucked up once more, words pouring out of him.
"I don't want to lose control and hurt you just to feed me!"
It sounded frustrated, as if it was part of the problem, but not the entirety of it. There was certainly an overlap. But all it did was make Goro pause for a second, before a guttural laugh burst out of him.
"Hurt me? Hurt me? You believe you could hurt me?"
Pressing even closer, almost pushing him into the table, Goro let Akira feel what their proximity and the prospect of the vampire feeding from him had already done. Rutting up once or twice, luxuriating in the way his clothed length dragged against the ass of the prone vampire in front of him, relieving some of the ache he had ignored until now.
"Believe me, I would love to see you lose control."
With a shudder he remembered the blood dripping down his wrist and into an open mouth. The sound of desperation, followed by pain and then nothing but hazy bliss.
Goro wanted him as desperate as he himself had been then, as lost in his hunger as he'd been in elation and as if the only thing that could sate both of their ravenous cravings was what the other offered.
And the tremor that ran through the body beneath his and the almost breathy gasp, as well as another attempt at moving that ended up as more of an arch, told Goro he wasn't the only one.
Just that he might have started with the wrong kind of appetite.
By now, his fangs and claws, as well as other parts of anatomy were on the same page as him, and he didn't bother to try and hide them again. Like this, or not at all.
His hand had trailed down from the table to the middle of Akira's back, a thin line of blood staining the fabric as it moved. His other loosened its grip on his hair, so he could prop himself up to see what he was doing.
For a second, he wondered what it must look like if another vampire stumbled upon the scene, clearly seeing how the werewolf had pinned one of their own in their midst. It would probably end with him torn into tiny pieces, no matter if they were a friend of Akira's in the giant game of chess the whole castle was busy with. Him being a threat to one of their own would win out.
A good thing no one had ever dared intrude on their little dinners.
His claws caught on the fabric and he let them, dragging them lower and lower, watching it part and thin red streaks appear on the skin he uncovered with every further centimeter he moved. Small drops of blood welling up while the scratches healed with a slight delay. So that small amount had been enough to heal, but not enough for an instant effect.
Almost reverently, he pulled the now shredded rags he'd made out of Akira's former clothes from his body, not listening to his sounds of protest, especially not when he took no care if his claws pricked more skin. Even deliberately dragging them over the bare asscheeks presented to him, before squeezing some of the flesh and savoring the sight. Knowing it was impossible, but hoping that he would be able to leave bruises at some point.
Most of Akira's struggles had ceased, seemingly much more focused on not making any noise at Goro's ministrations.
The temptation to simply drive himself forward was there, to ignore his discomfort and give in to an even baser instinct. To make the vampire bleed around him, tear up skin and make him drown in pain. Using the blood to thrust deeper until his claim was absolute and the amounts of blood they'd taken from each other were equal.
But they were both pretending to be civilized monsters, so he wouldn't.
It took him a moment to scour the table with his eyes, only to find the little pot of oil next to the other condiments, where it always sat during their meals. The hardest part was to concentrate on retracting his claws, reaching for the oil while using his other hand to keep Akira from squirming. Not seeing what Goro was doing apparently made him nervous. Good.
Akira jerked forward when he poured the oil out onto his backside, some drops splashing onto the plane of his back, but most of it slipped down between his cheeks, where Goro's fingers came to meet it, coating themselves and massaging the liquid without hesitation into the waiting rim.
It was an exercise in patience and restraint, even though he currently lacked both of those, shoving one and then a second finger in as soon as he could, only slowing down when Akira let out a lone, wet gasp.
He hadn't moved much, simply turned his head into his shoulder, as if ready to stifle any louder sounds but still holding onto his maddening composure.
But where his hands had before been busy bracing themselves against the table to throw Goro off, they were now holding onto it. Claws he'd never before been able to see on the vampire buried into the wood. The only outward sign that he wasn't as unaffected as he seemed. The motion of rocking into the fingers Goro kept shoving in and out of his hole only becoming apparent when those fingers slowed down or stopped.
Which was the sign for him to continue, letting a third finger slide in, which wrung a moan, barely louder than the gasp before out of Akira. The first of many, if he had any say in it.
Alternating between two and three fingers, searching around the now sufficiently slick walls, until he managed to locate the spot that not only made Akira try to squirm away and impale himself at the same time, but also muffle a shout into his shoulder. The loudest he'd been all evening.
Under any other circumstances, Goro would have grabbed his hair again, wrench his head away to hear him better, to take pride in taking him apart, but this dining room, even though it seemed to be in an almost deserted part of the castle, was still a public place. The chance someone could be drawn here by the unusual sounds and get the wrong idea was higher than he liked.
Instead, Goro leaned back, concentrating on keeping the angle, drawing more muffled sounds forth, while his other hand began fumbling at his pants, to finally open them and free his own throbbing erection.
"Better than fighting against it, right?"
The question was rhetorical, since Akira did not seem inclined to answer. Not that he would let him. Pausing his undressing to tuck in his pinky and slide four fingers in and out, a feeling of pure satisfaction came over him as he watched the obscene display.
His underwear was already stained and clinging to his skin when he managed to pull it down. Hissing when the cold air hit his exposed length, the precum that steadily and more than generously poured from the tip making it feel colder than it was in the room.
A biological werewolf quirk, to make penetration easier after the chase that usually happened when two of them decided to couple, and to smooth the way for the knot. But most of the time, an annoyance and embarrassment, especially during puberty.
Right now, he couldn't be more happy about it. Nestling his cock between those plush cheeks after withdrawing his fingers. And then, without a barrier of fabric, dragging it up and down once more, but this time with the goal to provide additional lubrication. He couldn't help but admire the glistening sheen he left behind when accidentally slipping to the side, trailing up and down while staining smooth skin.
Following a sudden urge, he reached out with his thumb, slowly dragging it through the wet trails he'd left and rubbing the fluid into Akira's skin.
His cock throbbed violently in response, letting Goro know what his body and mind thought of the action, and he made a mental note to explore this reaction further. Later. When he could take his time with it.
There were other things he wanted to do at this moment.
Like grabbing Akira's hips, something he hadn't been able to do while first holding him down and then fingering him. Pulling them back a bit, before extending his claws again and digging them in. As a warning and because he wanted to see more lines of blood bloom and watch them heal over when he trailed them lower and lower on his right side, until he could take hold of a thigh and hoist it up onto the table.
The shiny hole that was now completely on display gaped slightly, and the head of his cock sunk in at the lightest pressure while Goro admired the view.
Akira was perfect.
Spread out like this, the candlelight and the dark wood of the table made him almost shine. Drops of blood shimmering on his skin, as if to mark the places Goro had been. Ready to be taken by him, made to take the rough treatment he couldn't help but bestow upon him.
The only blemish on the situation was the fact he hadn't fed. But they would get to that.
Apparently he'd taken too long to bask in the view before him, as Akira made a curious noise, and moved as if to raise his head. Stopping the motion, when Goro gave the thigh he was still holding a squeeze, and pressed the head of his cock a little further in before moving away again.
"Don't worry, you won't have to wait any longer."
One of his hands kept anchoring Akira's thigh, the other his hip, and with his claws rearranged carefully to not reopen and tear into the almost healed flesh, he moved forward.
Slowly, Goro sunk into him, gradually increasing the pressure, suddenly unwilling to rush and hurt Akira - contrary to his earlier thoughts - even when he knew the body would eventually knit itself back together.
This wasn't about violence and damage, no matter how much he'd tried to convince himself of it. He was staking a claim, marking this vampire as his because against all odds, against instincts and reason, that's what he desired. Proving to the world, to Akira, to himself, that for once he'd recognized what he wanted and was unwilling to let it pass him by. Not on his father's orders, the fact their natures were supposed to make them enemies, and especially not because of his own inability to act.
Before him and below, Akira was breathing heavily into the air, head and back arched, as if he was savoring the stretch. Long grooves in the table leading to where he’d dug his own claws in.
Seeing his face during all this must be its own kind of rapture, and for a second Goro mourned that he hadn't been able to witness all his expressions. A thought he let go off, when he moved forward, several more centimeters smoothly gliding in, that made Akira moan and the muscles in his back move before he sunk down again, head tilted to the side, cheek pressed against the wood.
Once they were fully nestled together, his cock sheathed completely, Goro stilled for a long moment. His and Akira's breathing the only thing filling the air.
Warmth was one of the things he felt. Bordering on heat, despite the body underneath simply being lukewarm, the fact that vampires were dead driven home by that simple difference between them.
Dead, but not corpses. Everything slowed down until there was enough blood in their bodies to mimic the life they only barely felt anymore.
His own warmth must feel like a brand to Akira, and he hoped that it scorched his insides, the sensation all he never knew he needed. The same way Goro didn't want to leave the snug embrace that warmed up more and more around him.
He really hadn't drunk enough. Something he needed to deal with later. Hopefully with a less stubborn vampire.
He just needed to fuck the stubbornness out of him.
Withdrawing to do exactly that felt like the sweetest torture, only softened by the knowledge that he could push back in immediately, parting the flesh once again and make it accept the girth and length of his dick.
Every thrust spread the precum he was still producing further until the slide into Akira's tight hole was as smooth as it could be, some of the liquid trickling down over his rim every time he withdrew, which made it look as if his body was the one that had slicked itself up in preparation. A biological impossibility - not that his horny brain cared at the moment.
Instead, he lifted one of his hands, once more dragging it down from Akira's lower back and down his ass, drawing blood and making the body under him jerk back and impale itself.
Maybe he could get Akira desperate enough to do the whole work, full of frenzied movement to spear himself open, using Goro like a toy to take what he needed and craved. Not admitting it with his mouth, but with his body.
Later. The here and now was reserved for Goro to take him with long strong thrusts, one of his claws teasing at where they were joined. Hooking in and pulling slightly while admiring how his glistening cock was swallowed up again and again.
Making his way back up, leaving additional scratches simply to see Akira jolt back again, he caught himself once more thinking of what a sight they had to make right now. A fully different scenario than before. If someone walked in on them, they would immediately know that Akira was his.
His mark, his prey, his mate.
The hot flash of jealousy that followed the thought was unexpected, and he snarled into the empty air as if to frighten off the imagined intruder, burying himself with all his strength while pulling Akira's hips back.
No one was allowed to witness this. He was the one to reduce Akira to this, the one Akira had let this close, had let unravel him and spread out over a table.
And Goro was the one pounding into him, having all these small sounds and twitches to himself, no one else.
"You feel... so good."
A simple observation, because Goro's brain currently wasn't able to describe more eloquently what all of this did to him, and after this exclamation he wasn't able to do more than fill the air with groans, growls and snarls. Sounds he couldn't hold back, until those and the clash of their bodies seemed to be the only ones resonating in the room.
It was something he could get lost in, the push and pull, the tightness around him, the wet squelch when they met again and again.
Even though they were already in the middle of it, Goro knew that he wanted to have this again. Akira frantically scrabbling for anything and everything so he could have something to hold on, before giving up and simply taking it, bucking back into every thrust. His little breathless sounds getting louder, but never reaching the volume Goro wanted to bring him to.
Which only meant that he had to try harder.
He noticed that his knot was swelling the first time it caught on Akira's rim, still passing through with an ease that gradually vanished, the delicious tightness adding to even more stimulation.
And Akira was rocking back onto it, as if he wanted, needed it further inside of him.
Who was he to not oblige that unspoken request?
Driving himself deeper, he let his hand slip down, claws now etching their way down over Akira's hip bones, until he reached his target, where he carefully closed it around the vampire's erection. Making sure that his claws only pricked the skin while he slowly started moving his hand up and down.
Could Akira even get hard with the meager amount of blood he'd taken?
Several careful pumps of Akira's cock and the same amount of thrusts into his prostate later, he knew the answer was negative.
Looked like Goro would have to find out later how much blood was needed for Akira to be able to come. A shame, but the night was young, and his own blood would replenish itself faster than most of the creatures the other could feed on, so a more than suitable amount was available.
The situation still irked him, and he resolved to see it as a punishment for Akira being unwilling to drink his blood when it was offered.
As if in retaliation, he sped up his thrusts, grinding into Akira's prostate whenever he could, hoping that the pleasure from it all would be too much. That it would break him. Break down his resolve to not drink from him, and admit that he needed it, needed Goro, and that this was what he'd been hoping for.
By now, his knot was struggling to make its way through, and with a few hard thrusts, Goro could feel himself settle, locking up inside of Akira, binding them together, and plugging him up.
The experience was more intense than he thought it would be, and Goro almost doubled over at the feeling of being absolutely surrounded by Akira, being fully connected. And finally, there was more noise coming out of Akira, unmistakable moans, while his ass clenched on his cock and knot.
With a desperate lunge forward, pounding into Akira with a few more shallow thrusts, he let go. Releasing into him with a grunt, grinding out the violent twitches until he came back to his senses. The feeling of being bound together encompassing Goro completely, while his cock continued to sluggishly pump his cum into Akira. Which it would for a while. Locking them together, until he could be sure that - if it were a different partner - he'd bred them to his satisfaction.
Another biological impossibility, but one he didn't care for at all.
Not when it was Akira, beautiful, enigmatic, and infuriating Akira, being filled with his cum, sitting pretty on his knot. Covered in almost healed scratches and gashes, drops of blood either drying or making their way down his body.
He'd never looked better. As if he finally belonged to Goro.
Stretching to the side, ignoring Akira’s shudders at every further spurt of cum out of his cock coating his insides, as well as his own body's signals that very much just wanted him to drape himself over the vampire and rest until he could repeat the whole thing again, Goro reached for one of the chairs still scattered around the table.
Sitting down while using their connected bodies to draw the vampire into his lap. Rearranging them until he was satisfied, smirking at the way Akira seemed only now be able to comprehend what position he was in. Trying to close his legs almost shyly, to hide his own cock that was still failing to fully rise from view, but was prevented by Goro's leg hooking around his ankle.
Keeping him wide open. And accessible, since Akira's arousal was one of the first things he would deal with as soon and repeatedly as he could.
Once he behaved and finally drank enough to keep his bodily functions going. And then more, so Goro could see what he would look like sated. In more ways than one, if he let him.
Goro let his nose and lips trail up the vampire's neck until he found the faint pulse, that imitation of life, that was only possible with enough blood in his system. Still too slow for liking, the warmth of the body tucked against his not good enough for his taste.
Just as he had before their tryst on the table, he held his wrist up, this time pressing the by now healed wound directly against Akira’s lips, neither his knot nor his other arm releasing their hold on his difficult prey. Now that he'd finally caught it.
“We’re going to stay like this, and you’re going to eat.”