Honey and Wine
by Leslie G.S.
Nick/LaCroix
Explicit sex
Category:  Drama


One of my fellow Unnameds wrote us a naughty bit on our 
loop, part of the missing scene after the flashback in 
"Trophy Girl", where Nick accidently snacks on LaCroix's 
honey and wine girl.  She ended her bit with the challenge, 
"That's all I have, at least for now. I leave the rest to 
YOUR imagination."  Mmmm, well, this is what _my_ 
imagination came up with.

Standard disclaimers.  Graphic M/M sex.

Honey and Wine

He lowered the girl to the bed, his eyes trailing down her 
lovely but very dead form.  But her life sang in him, and 
LaCroix was right, the honey and wine, sweet and sparkling, 
danced in his veins.  He rolled the last mouthful over his 
tongue, drunk with more than her blood.  Her lust, her tipsy 
giddiness, suffused his limbs, made his head swim, tightened 
his groin.  He looked up, abruptly aware of an intruder, 
eyes still golden, lips twisting into the beginning of a 
snarl.

Faster than his reeling thoughts could follow, he found 
himself slammed up against a wall, hard, staring, blinking 
and dazed, into the enraged features of LaCroix.  A deep 
growl rumbled in his master's chest as he glared at 
Nicholas, unspeaking.  Sense returned to him slowly and with 
a sinking dread, he realized what an awful mistake he had 
made.

"I'm sorry.  I'm sorry," he whispered breathlessly.  "I 
don't know...."  He panted a moment, trying to come up with 
some acceptable explanation.  Lamely, he finished, "I was 
only trying to protect her."

LaCroix's hand shot up and Nicholas winced a bit, expecting 
a blow.  But LaCroix only flicked the tip of his middle 
finger roughly down the side of his chin.  His master's eyes 
moved from Nicholas's to gaze at his own fingertip, 
glistening bright red.  Closing his golden eyes, he brought 
the meager scrap of his stolen dinner to his tongue, and was 
caught a moment in the rich sweetness of the blood.  Oh, she 
was everything he had hoped she'd be and his fury at his 
loss snapped his eyes open again.

"Intoxicating," he snarled into the chagrined, frightened 
face of his son, "wasn't she?"  He twisted his fist more 
firmly into Nicholas's doublet, giving him a little shake.  
Wincing, blinking, Nicholas looked away, out of his depth, 
frightened by LaCroix, but still besotted with Liselle's 
blood.

LaCroix allowed the boy to slide down the wall, and he 
loomed over him, shoving his body against the younger 
vampire's, clenching his fist as he prepared to strike.  
Something came to his attention, though, through their link 
and their physical contact.  His eyes cooled abruptly, and 
he smiled with cruel amusement.  Knee sliding between 
Nicholas's legs, he pressed a hard muscled thigh against the 
enticing firmness straining within the codpiece.

"Is this for her?" he murmured, flexing his leg against the 
other's crotch.  "Or for me?"  Nicholas's gaze met LaCroix's 
for an instant, then skittered off to fix on some vague 
point over the older vampire's shoulder.

"Either way, she has no use for it any longer.  I, on the 
other hand...."  Long, strong fingers reached up under 
Nicholas's doublet and snapped the ties fastening his 
codpiece to his hose one by one, the boy jerking at the 
sound of each tearing pop.  The fabric pouch fell to the 
floor and then exquisitely light fingertips ghosted up his 
semi-erect phallus.  With a spasm of indignation at this 
final intimate trespass, Nicholas, growling, knocked 
LaCroix's hand aside.

He found himself slammed back again and a snarling, golden 
eyed demon tearing at his clothing.  In moments, he was 
naked, livid red streaks on his flesh where LaCroix in his 
outraged fury had clawed him.  Tattered cloth littered the 
floor at his feet.

Chest heaving with his passion mixed of rage and lust, 
LaCroix stepped back, glaring at his rebellious whelp.  Chin 
up, Nicholas met his gaze with narrowed eyes, defiant, 
though the trembling of his limbs revealed his fear.  Until 
now his bed-sport with LaCroix came of the lust a good hunt 
generated or the boredom of a long day trapped in a lair, 
and always with Janette as a participant.  He had never been 
alone with LaCroix and never with the man in a rage.  His 
maker was not shy about applying punishment when he saw fit, 
but it had never been a part of their games.  A chill spread 
through him.  LaCroix, master of exquisite pleasure, was no 
doubt equally the master of exquisite pain.

"Get on the bed," LaCroix growled, teeth retracted but eyes 
still sparking.

"Please, LaCroix," Nicholas whispered, not at all eager to 
tumble with the man enraged.

"Get on the bed," he demanded again, sharply, fists clenched 
as he took a half-step forward.  Nicholas slid rapidly 
around the man and darted for the bed, eyes flitting 
guiltily over Liselle's still form.  LaCroix followed him, 
and Nicholas huddled at the head of the bed, away from the 
woman's body, as LaCroix stripped, staring at him, lips 
tight with displeasure.  The nerve of the boy, to rob him 
his anticipated pleasure, then to reject his caress.  The 
wretch, vampire or no, was going to walk with a limp for a 
week by the time he was through.  All very well, this 
forlorn, pleading look he offered him now, like a hound 
fearing a whipping.  All very well the fine frightened 
tremor of his limbs.

One of the points fastening his hose to his tunic snarled 
under his angry fingers and with fierce self-restraint he 
teased the knot loose rather than tear the silk.  The 
momentary distraction gave him the small space of time he 
needed to collect himself.  The boy owed him, certainly, and 
deserved ... correction.  But was it wise to bring the 
brutal pain he intended to the pastime that had afforded 
them only pleasure and sweet company up to this point?

His eyes lit upon the pottery jar of honey he had used to 
flavor the woman's wine.  An old trick of one of his boyish 
favorites from his mortal days, a charming little Hellene, 
flashed through his mind.  He smiled, glancing up at 
Nicholas, who involuntarily edged back from the expression 
on his master's face.  LaCroix chuckled, and finished 
undressing in a more leisurely fashion, at last standing 
nude before Nicholas.  The boy, sensing the change his mood,
seemed perhaps a bit less frightened, though much more
puzzled.  It didn't appear that LaCroix was going to leap on 
him and savage him any longer, but it was highly unlikely he 
was going to get out of this completely unscathed.

LaCroix fetched the sturdy armless chair from its place 
against the wall and set it beside the bed, facing Nicholas. 
Seating himself, he reached out a long arm and picked up the 
pot of honey, pulled out the little wooden spoon and watched 
the amber fluid ooze back into the pot.  He had momentary 
second thoughts.  This was going to get ... sticky.  He 
loathed being sticky.  The Hellene's coy little smile 
tickled through his memory and he smirked himself.  Cleaning 
up in his large marble tub could prove quite amusing as
well.

With a quick hooded glance at the curious Nicholas, LaCroix
dangled the dripping spoon over his erection, letting the
honey flow over and down his flesh, then taking another full
helping.  As he recalled, the thicker, the better. 

Nicholas's eyes and mouth widened, as LaCroix put down the
little pot, then used one hand to stroke himself, spreading
the viscous fluid evenly over his penis.  He lingered,
eyelids drooping as he gazed at Nicholas's face.  The boy's
hand crept to his own crotch as he stiffened watching
LaCroix pleasure himself.

Taking his hand from himself, LaCroix stared at it in some
distaste.

"Get the wine, Nicholas, there on the table."  Nicholas
quickly stood up, partially turning away from his master in
a half-hearted attempt to conceal his own arousal.  He
picked up the bottle of Liebfraumilch and at LaCroix's
impatient wriggling of his fingers, poured it over his
sticky hand.  The heady fumes of the fruity wine filled the
room, mingling with that of the honey, bringing to both
their minds Liselle's scent.  Both men savored the pulse of
pleasure that surged through their groins.  Nicholas put
down the empty bottle and dried LaCroix's hand with a corner
of the sheet.

Smiling benignly up at his waiting son, LaCroix murmured,
"Now come here, boy.  You owe me a certain recompense."
Nicholas's stomach lurched at the thought of the honey,
sticky sweet on his tongue, undiluted by blood.  But he took
the step forward, than sank to his knees before the seated
LaCroix.  As he bent, licking his lips uneasily, to take his
master into his mouth, the man stopped him, catching his
chin in one hand.

The man tilted Nicholas's face up to meet his eyes. 
Smirking, he drawled, "Well, my boy, while I ... appreciate
your enthusiasm, that is not precisely what I had in mind."
He pushed up on Nicholas's chin, bringing him, brows
furrowed in puzzlement, back to his feet.  Releasing his
chin as he rose, LaCroix reached out with both hands,
placing them on Nicholas's hips.  As he drew the boy closer,
he inserted his own legs between the younger vampire's. 
Impulsively, LaCroix leaned forward, his cool tongue
emerging to explore the sensitive hollow of Nicholas's
navel.  Having softened at the thought of the sickening
honey, Nicholas's penis bobbed up again, tapping LaCroix
under the chin.

"Cheeky devil," LaCroix murmured, pushing Nicholas back
slightly.  The younger vampire gasped, clenching his fists,
as the tip of LaCroix's tongue swirled around his glans,
sliding back the foreskin before his lips closed over him,
gliding slowly down the shaft.  His tongue stroked firmly
along the underside of Nicholas's penis as LaCroix took him
deep, deep, closing his eyes, nails biting lightly into the
boy's flanks.  He lost himself a moment in the scent of his
son, savoring the taste of him, the soft skin against his
lips and tongue, the shivering echo in his own mind of
Nicholas's growing pleasure.  With a sudden, sharp breath,
he pushed the younger vampire back, eliciting an imperfectly
suppressed moan of disappointment from him.

Blinking, gold flecks sprinkled in the ice blue of his eyes,
he said a bit thickly, "Actually, that is not what I had in
mind, either."

He reached further behind Nicholas, lightly skimming his
palms over his hard muscled buttocks, pulling him closer and
down.

"Sit," he said huskily, honey slathered cock jerking in
anticipation.  Understanding dawned in Nicholas, and he took
a deep breath, then released it, consciously relaxing
against the little twist in his guts of mingled apprehension
and arousal.  Steadying himself with hands laid lightly on
LaCroix's broad shoulders, he lowered himself toward the
man's lap.  LaCroix guided him down, spreading Nicholas's
buttocks with eager fingers.  The blunt, iron hard tip of
LaCroix's cock pressed against the tight ring of muscle and
LaCroix brought his hands to rest, tremoring lightly, on
Nicholas's thighs.  His buttocks tensed as his body became
rigid in the chair, but otherwise he didn't move, leaving it
to Nicholas to impale himself.  The younger vampire lowered
himself slowly, sliding with surprising ease on LaCroix's
honeyed flesh.  As the taut ring clamped on the head of his
cock, LaCroix's eyes rolled back.

"Nicholassss," he moaned, hands clenching spasmodically on
his lover's thighs.  The younger vampire's characteristic
half-grin quirked his lips, as he delighted in the power he
had to control his master.  Teasing, he lifted himself a
bit, then slid down again, working himself slowly down the
shaft in small steps, groaning and sighing as LaCroix filled
him.  The man trembled under him, eyes closed, lower lip
caught between his teeth.  Nicholas's gaze roved over his
face, link to his lover as wide open as he could make it,
avid to witness even the slightest effect he had on LaCroix.

Panting, Nicholas finally rested completely on LaCroix's
lap, containing the man's full length.  Eyes closed, LaCroix
reached an arm around the small of Nicholas's back, pulling
him closer.  He pressed cool lips against a nipple, then his
tongue darted out to flick against it, as his other hand
reached between them to firmly grasp Nicholas's cock.  The
younger vampire grunted, then slowly lifted himself up
again, beginning his ride, the growing friction warming the
lubricating honey, making it even more slick.  Oh, this is
good, so good, Nicholas thought, closing his own eyes,
LaCroix's tongue and teeth on his puckering nipples and the
man's hand skimming up and down his cock in the same rhythm
that he impaled himself.  The pressure of their ecstasy
grew, surging through their bond, and the aching at the
roots of his fangs grew almost unbearable.  He let them
descend and he opened his mouth, prepared to fall on
LaCroix's throat as they climaxed.

Suddenly, he found his shoulder and hair seized, his head
twisted sharply to one side.  LaCroix jerked him forward,
sinking his teeth into his jugular, the bright pain shocking
a yell from him.  He struggled to turn his own head, to
reach the other vampire, but brutal hands held him immobile
as LaCroix drew out his life blood.

LaCroix greedily gulped down the woman's blood, distilled
now by Nicholas's body into a finer liquor, less sustaining,
but far headier, laced as it was with his boy's fiery
essence.  Honey and wine, honey and wine burst across his
tongue as the golden intoxicating fury of Nicholas exploded
in his mind.  He needed every iota of his control as,
groaning with the effort, he restrained himself from
spending his seed into Nicholas's body.  Balanced on that
peak just before the tumble into bliss, he drank as he would
have from the mortal Liselle, his own heartbeat echoing the
slow pounding rhythm of Nicholas's.  Finally, replete, he
pulled away.

The boy, nearly drained, almost unconscious, slumped against
him limply, his body so sweetly pliant.  LaCroix cradled
him, kissing lightly at the slowly healing wound in his
throat.  He savored the feel of his son's yielding flesh
against his.  The boy's hot-headed, stubborn nature made
moments like this too rare, and with his own love of a
challenge, this usually pleased him.  This surrender of
Nicholas's body forced a half-unwilling surrender in him as
well, a melting that allowed a usually scorned tenderness to
suffuse him.

He turned his head to press his lips against Nicholas's;
there was a ghost of a response.

"Come, my boy," he murmured.  "Your turn."  Grasping
Nicholas's hair, he pressed the boy's lips against his own
throat.  For a moment, as his son lay motionless, he thought
he had perhaps taken too much and that he would have to
force feed him.  But then, with a growl, Nicholas struck
like a viper, plunging his fangs into LaCroix's flesh.  The
older vampire cried out in pain and delight, his orgasm,
sweetly fierce, startling him, and he quickly placed his
mouth over his son's half-healed wound to share the bliss
consuming him.  LaCroix's climax triggered Nicholas's,
exploding in his blood, and they groaned together as they
yielded to ecstasy.

Arms tight around each other, LaCroix supported Nicholas
until his ancient blood revitalized his son.  They slowly,
reluctantly, removed their mouths from one another's flesh,
the returning separation somehow painful.

LaCroix cleared his throat.  "I need a bath, Nicholas," he
said a bit hoarsely.  "So do you.  Soap.  Hot water. 
Perhaps a bit more ... play."

Nicholas chuckled, still feeling a bit woozy.  "You're
insatiable, old man."

"Only ... only for a select few, Nicholas.  A very select
few."

FIN