Even if Soma doesn't trust himself, especially not now when he's given in and is taking his first taste of blood in this lifetime, someone still trusts him. Ignis really is kind. And compassionate. And handsome.
And Soma is so very drunk and so very screwed.
A quiet hum sounds against Ignis's bitten skin, the teen leaning in as his prey-- his friend-- leans in, until Soma is almost in the man's lap. He drinks with surprising delicacy despite his hunger, savoring each drop because somehow he is just sober enough to know he doesn't want to kill Ignis. He's not sober though, or else he wouldn't be doing this at all. Ignis said "take what you need", but he doesn't actually need any of it. He only craves it, like a drug, and it sings through him with an unnatural high.
It might be impossible for either of them to forget the muted sounds of sucking, the little breathy noises of pleasure, the faint scent of blood beneath the smoky perfume of the bonfire. Dimly Soma prays someone pulls him off Ignis soon, though he knows if it happens he just might snarl at whomever is responsible. He feels so alive now, doing this thing that only near-dead creatures do. He wonders if his heart has stopped, whatever change started in the castle now complete with his willpower folding, but no, it's not one heartbeat he tastes on his tongue but two because their pulses are synced.
God forgive him, nothing could ever hope to match this sheer bliss. With a soft, desperate moan he lets go of Ignis's hand and wraps his friend in both arms, holding him close.]
Getting just a bit PG-13 here, nothing blatant though.
Even if Soma doesn't trust himself, especially not now when he's given in and is taking his first taste of blood in this lifetime, someone still trusts him. Ignis really is kind. And compassionate. And handsome.
And Soma is so very drunk and so very screwed.
A quiet hum sounds against Ignis's bitten skin, the teen leaning in as his prey-- his friend-- leans in, until Soma is almost in the man's lap. He drinks with surprising delicacy despite his hunger, savoring each drop because somehow he is just sober enough to know he doesn't want to kill Ignis. He's not sober though, or else he wouldn't be doing this at all. Ignis said "take what you need", but he doesn't actually need any of it. He only craves it, like a drug, and it sings through him with an unnatural high.
It might be impossible for either of them to forget the muted sounds of sucking, the little breathy noises of pleasure, the faint scent of blood beneath the smoky perfume of the bonfire. Dimly Soma prays someone pulls him off Ignis soon, though he knows if it happens he just might snarl at whomever is responsible. He feels so alive now, doing this thing that only near-dead creatures do. He wonders if his heart has stopped, whatever change started in the castle now complete with his willpower folding, but no, it's not one heartbeat he tastes on his tongue but two because their pulses are synced.
God forgive him, nothing could ever hope to match this sheer bliss. With a soft, desperate moan he lets go of Ignis's hand and wraps his friend in both arms, holding him close.]