[ After getting pretty handsy on the walk over, Hans takes Oren back to his place. He shouldn't, but he figures Katsuya is out enjoying the festival and he's mostly right, too. (For the record, Katsuya enjoyed the festival for about 5 minutes, attacked his friends, then ran out into the forest to avoid eating anybody, but maybe that's why Hans is getting such good karma tonight. All that luck had to bleed somewhere.)
Hans leads Oren in, flicking on the lights for Oren's sake as they walk through the door. The apartment is fairly spacious. Expensive; with a kitchen, a living room, a bit of a foyer... it's nice. The rooms are sparsely decorated with matching upholstery and dark, black curtains blocking all light from the outside. Hans wouldn't have it any other way. Better to have an eerily dark apartment then wake up to your skin burning. Oren might not get that now, but come the next month, he might begin to understand.
Shame, though. If he starts turning into something ugly, Hans will have a harder time of this. Stay pretty for Hans, Oren. ]
And here we are. [ He adds with some flourish, releasing Oren's hand at last. It's not like Hans is nervous, more curious now that his intentions are completely clear. ] Where should we start?
[How exciting, to start fresh in an unknown city, where no one knows him. Where he can make himself known by his own actions entirely, gripping into it firmly and steering it where he wishes. He hadn't expected to get so lucky this night, but it seemed that a few explosions in the sky were a good omen, after all.
Once inside the place, Oren doesn't take much time admiring the furnishings. He doesn't care for Hans' taste of style, or wondering if he has roommates— no, he's much more intrigued by the sudden space between them, the lack of fingers intertwined with his own, and the comment that leaves things so open when previously Hans had intended to lead.]
By abandoning such formalities. [Closing the distance between them now, Oren hooks a finger into Hans' jacket, undoing the button with purposeful slowness as he pushes past him solely for the touch of it.]
If you play coy, I'll think you uninterested or uninformed. [Teasing, already, he's clearly making a show of it in his words and in his actions alike. His hand trails along his chest even as he steps backwards, guiding Hans further into his own apartment.] Come now, I know you better than that, already.
[His eyes are alight with curiosity and his arm is fully extended now, finally pulling away unless Hans decides to follow.] And I do so enjoy your honesty.
[That's his own explicit invitation in return. Start wherever you'd like, Prince.]
[ Hans almost laughs. He isn't just seducing some prince, no. Oren wants him honest. Wants him terrible, he means. Hans can certainly do that. Especially if it means following Oren further in and bringing a hand up to trail down his shoulders and around his neck as Oren slips his jacket loose. Hans can feel the blood under his fingertips, feel Oren's pulse and practically hear the telltale thrum of his heart. Huh, Hans's never had sex as a vampire before. It should be interesting. ]
My room is this way.
[ Hans leans into his touch and presses closer, stepping in time with Oren to keep the distance to a minimum but also make their way over as soon as possible. With Hans' claws, he has to be gentle, very gentle. Or not, judging by the fact that he "accidentally" slips up a bit at the end, scratching a thin line off the side of Oren's neck. Not enough to draw blood, though. See if he likes that. ]
[The scratch is surprising with such a soft touch, but all it earns is a slow growing smile. Claws, right. Among other things— he'd almost forgotten in how "normal" Hans looked that he was actually a monster already. Vampire, was it? His paleness wasn't strange right now so much as exotic, and Oren was already wondering what other fun could come of this.
His heart jumps in his excitement (who would have thought he'd be able to get laid in hell?) and as they step back into Hans' room, Oren pulls them together still. He doesn't bother waiting for a more specific location once they're inside; he leans up on his tiptoes, kissing hungrily at Hans' jawline as his hands smooth down his chest and wrap around his waist. The bed, the wall, the floor, right here— he doesn't care. For the sake of this fun he's having, he'll let Hans guide the way.]
Ah, and after you've already surprised me. [He smirks into the next kiss, nipping at his neck before he hums into the skin.] Show me everything you like, my Prince.
[ Against the wall is a good place to start, he decides. His blood pumps slower now, heartbeat rising at an even pace but it's good. He feels alive. What a novelty. The rush in his ears and the flush on his cheeks is something he'd barely noticed he was missing. ]
I doubt we'd have time to go over everything. [ Hans grabs hold of Oren's chin and leans down into his lips, pressing him against the door once it's closed behind them. He's crowding in close, smirking as he deepens their kiss and settles his knee between Oren's legs. Sure, he has to bend down a bit, but that's part of the fun. ]
[If there's one thing he enjoys about his height, it's how he can make those taller lean down to reach him. He stands tall, but he only reaches when he truly wants it— and here, he lets Hans chase. His back presses against the door and he takes great pleasure in watching the man hunch over for that knee placement. He smiles into the kiss, reaching to grab at Hans' shirt and pull him closer so it can deepen still.]
I have high hopes. You wouldn't disappoint, after all.
[His words come out low against pale lips, and he doesn't waste any time letting his hands drag lower. They pluck and toy with the cloth of Hans' shirt, but Oren is ultimately uninterested in removing his top. How much can he get him to leave on in desperation? He'd much rather see that.
For now, he makes his own interest clear. A deep kiss, a pleased hum buried into it, and the slight shift of his hips to press closer. What will these ego strokes do for him here, he wonders?]
[ Stroking Hans' ego works almost as well as physical contact. He's vain, narcissistic and desperate for praise, always. It makes him grin, almost honest or at least honest in interest. Hans is certainly interested in seeing where this goes. ]
You know I won't.
[ And he does, rolling his hips down against Oren's, trailing his kisses down as though pulled there by Oren's pulse. He hasn't had the pleasure of drinking from someone who he wasn't commanding to be still-- his blood hums louder, heightened by excitement and whatever else. Hans is going to enjoy this. ]
[Though he's not often quick to volunteer himself for this side of things, there's something intoxicating about being cornered and craved like this. Whatever Hans is thinking is felt through his actions, and Oren closes his eyes to take it in, lips never giving way from his smirk.
Pain, though, that's an interesting question. He's had his own fair share of pain and he hates that, but in this context?]
That depends on the type of pain, my friend. [One of his hands slides up, tracing fingers up Hans' shoulder and neck to curl into his hair. The other continues below, reaching the waist of Hans' pants and toying there, purposefully fumbling with any zipper or button that may be holding him back.
He simply wants to tease. To push him a bit. See how much he can get into this.]
Do you want to hurt me? [He asks, an eyebrow quirking as his eyes drag open once more. He's very much intrigued by this, pressing his hips closer even when he finally undoes Hans' pants and slips a hand to palm at him over underwear.] How bold. [Purring that out, he tilts his head back to allow Hans at more of his neck, welcoming it.]
[ Hans isn't exactly trusting, but he's certainly pressing back against Oren's hand, hissing softly at the pressure and enjoying every inch of Oren's touch. His blood normally runs so cold, but that's quickly changing. It could change even more if Oren let it. ]
Your blood. [ Hans speaks into Oren's neck, sucking hard on his nape, nearly drooling from the blood pumping just beneath his skin. Carefully, so carefully, Hans lowers his teeth onto Oren's skin, enough for him to feel sharp fangs teasing, pressing against him but holding in place. Hans is enjoying the attention-- he doesn't want that to stop just because he wants to feed. ] Let me. Please. I can almost taste it...
[Though Oren always prefers to be in control of a situation, there's something all too exciting about toeing that line. He knows nothing about 'vampires' or how they feed, but he knows now that Hans is interested. It's intriguing. It interests him. And as Hans speaks into his neck and presses closer, lets his teeth sink down like that— Oren's breath catches in his throat.
It's a danger, but not one he thinks threatens his life in any way. It's exciting because of that, and Hans can be rewarded with the increase of Oren's heartbeat and a generous stroke.
[ He doesn't need to be told twice. Asking in itself was a courtesy, an investment for later, a planned move-- certainly not caring, or considerate or kind. None of that. Hans bites down into Oren's neck and the taste of his blood hits his tongue, warm and metallic and so good that he can't hold back a moan. The rush it gives makes Hans' hips jump and has him crowding him in further.
He's never been more conflicted with sensation. Oren's hand takes up much of his attention, he never thought he could feel more but his lips around his neck and the warm slick taste of copper down his throat has Hans getting harder faster better stronger than he's ever gotten, especially considering he's undead. The sound of Oren's heartbeat rings in his head as he drinks down, and he might need to stop soon, perhaps, but not right now, not yet. He's enjoying this too much.
Yeah, food and sex, who knew the two could go together so well? ]
[Oren gasps out at the bite, flattening against the door as Hans' presence surrounds him. A shiver runs through his whole body, and it's accompanied by a rush flowing from his neck that has his head spinning and his knees feeling a little weak. It's just enough to be thrilling, and in sign of his interest, he grants Hans a more firm stroke.
He hadn't thought being fed on would be so appealing, but it's the show of control that has him, he thinks. He can appreciate it, admire it, crave it— but what he does notice is the severe lack of every other bit of Hans on him.
Pressing his palm up for a more teasing motion, he groans against Hans' ear, or the closest he can get. His own hips roll up desperately. Needy.]
Do tell me you at least to reward me for this feast of yours. You're making me impatient.
I had "Should Hans growl or purr idk" in my drafts this whole time
[ Grudgingly, Hans pulls his mouth away from Oren's neck, admiring the drip of blood from the wound. He slides his tongue right against and laps up what remains with kisses that grow in intensity. It's not easy keeping himself reined like this, with Oren's hand at his hips and his blood on Hans' lips. But he can think of a few other ways to reward him for the meal. ]
I plan to. [ Hans presses against Oren firmly, arms coming around to hold up his hips. Hans is strong enough for the both of them. He can let go. ] You've been very good.
[Leaving Hans to find his own ways to solve the wants of his arousal, he stops palming him and wraps his arms around Hans' neck instead. With him holding him like this, it's all the easier to wrap his legs around Hans' waist. He grinds against him in the process, groaning softly at both that and the lips lingering near his neck.]
You want to fuck me? [He's too impatient now, dropping politeness for a low, wanting voice. He inhales slowly, fingers curling at the base of Hans' neck. Trusting Hans' strength and leaning forward, Oren kisses at his jaw, just near his ear.]
It's not just anyone who's allowed that. But for Prince Hans... [He moans there, pulling himself closer still. Get to it.] I'll allow it.
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swoons what a title
Hans leads Oren in, flicking on the lights for Oren's sake as they walk through the door. The apartment is fairly spacious. Expensive; with a kitchen, a living room, a bit of a foyer... it's nice. The rooms are sparsely decorated with matching upholstery and dark, black curtains blocking all light from the outside. Hans wouldn't have it any other way. Better to have an eerily dark apartment then wake up to your skin burning. Oren might not get that now, but come the next month, he might begin to understand.
Shame, though. If he starts turning into something ugly, Hans will have a harder time of this. Stay pretty for Hans, Oren. ]
And here we are. [ He adds with some flourish, releasing Oren's hand at last. It's not like Hans is nervous, more curious now that his intentions are completely clear. ] Where should we start?
I worked hard on it
Once inside the place, Oren doesn't take much time admiring the furnishings. He doesn't care for Hans' taste of style, or wondering if he has roommates— no, he's much more intrigued by the sudden space between them, the lack of fingers intertwined with his own, and the comment that leaves things so open when previously Hans had intended to lead.]
By abandoning such formalities. [Closing the distance between them now, Oren hooks a finger into Hans' jacket, undoing the button with purposeful slowness as he pushes past him solely for the touch of it.]
If you play coy, I'll think you uninterested or uninformed. [Teasing, already, he's clearly making a show of it in his words and in his actions alike. His hand trails along his chest even as he steps backwards, guiding Hans further into his own apartment.] Come now, I know you better than that, already.
[His eyes are alight with curiosity and his arm is fully extended now, finally pulling away unless Hans decides to follow.] And I do so enjoy your honesty.
[That's his own explicit invitation in return. Start wherever you'd like, Prince.]
accurate
[ Hans almost laughs. He isn't just seducing some prince, no. Oren wants him honest. Wants him terrible, he means. Hans can certainly do that. Especially if it means following Oren further in and bringing a hand up to trail down his shoulders and around his neck as Oren slips his jacket loose. Hans can feel the blood under his fingertips, feel Oren's pulse and practically hear the telltale thrum of his heart. Huh, Hans's never had sex as a vampire before. It should be interesting. ]
My room is this way.
[ Hans leans into his touch and presses closer, stepping in time with Oren to keep the distance to a minimum but also make their way over as soon as possible. With Hans' claws, he has to be gentle, very gentle. Or not, judging by the fact that he "accidentally" slips up a bit at the end, scratching a thin line off the side of Oren's neck. Not enough to draw blood, though. See if he likes that. ]
There's plenty I have yet to teach you.
holds face in embarrassment end them END THEM
His heart jumps in his excitement (who would have thought he'd be able to get laid in hell?) and as they step back into Hans' room, Oren pulls them together still. He doesn't bother waiting for a more specific location once they're inside; he leans up on his tiptoes, kissing hungrily at Hans' jawline as his hands smooth down his chest and wrap around his waist. The bed, the wall, the floor, right here— he doesn't care. For the sake of this fun he's having, he'll let Hans guide the way.]
Ah, and after you've already surprised me. [He smirks into the next kiss, nipping at his neck before he hums into the skin.] Show me everything you like, my Prince.
THERE IS NO END TO THEM
I doubt we'd have time to go over everything. [ Hans grabs hold of Oren's chin and leans down into his lips, pressing him against the door once it's closed behind them. He's crowding in close, smirking as he deepens their kiss and settles his knee between Oren's legs. Sure, he has to bend down a bit, but that's part of the fun. ]
But I'm excited to try.
damn it
[If there's one thing he enjoys about his height, it's how he can make those taller lean down to reach him. He stands tall, but he only reaches when he truly wants it— and here, he lets Hans chase. His back presses against the door and he takes great pleasure in watching the man hunch over for that knee placement. He smiles into the kiss, reaching to grab at Hans' shirt and pull him closer so it can deepen still.]
I have high hopes. You wouldn't disappoint, after all.
[His words come out low against pale lips, and he doesn't waste any time letting his hands drag lower. They pluck and toy with the cloth of Hans' shirt, but Oren is ultimately uninterested in removing his top. How much can he get him to leave on in desperation? He'd much rather see that.
For now, he makes his own interest clear. A deep kiss, a pleased hum buried into it, and the slight shift of his hips to press closer. What will these ego strokes do for him here, he wonders?]
pretend this isn't late as shit
You know I won't.
[ And he does, rolling his hips down against Oren's, trailing his kisses down as though pulled there by Oren's pulse. He hasn't had the pleasure of drinking from someone who he wasn't commanding to be still-- his blood hums louder, heightened by excitement and whatever else. Hans is going to enjoy this. ]
What are your feelings on pain, Oren?
embraces it lovingly
Pain, though, that's an interesting question. He's had his own fair share of pain and he hates that, but in this context?]
That depends on the type of pain, my friend. [One of his hands slides up, tracing fingers up Hans' shoulder and neck to curl into his hair. The other continues below, reaching the waist of Hans' pants and toying there, purposefully fumbling with any zipper or button that may be holding him back.
He simply wants to tease. To push him a bit. See how much he can get into this.]
Do you want to hurt me? [He asks, an eyebrow quirking as his eyes drag open once more. He's very much intrigued by this, pressing his hips closer even when he finally undoes Hans' pants and slips a hand to palm at him over underwear.] How bold. [Purring that out, he tilts his head back to allow Hans at more of his neck, welcoming it.]
Go on, I won't run.
no subject
Your blood. [ Hans speaks into Oren's neck, sucking hard on his nape, nearly drooling from the blood pumping just beneath his skin. Carefully, so carefully, Hans lowers his teeth onto Oren's skin, enough for him to feel sharp fangs teasing, pressing against him but holding in place. Hans is enjoying the attention-- he doesn't want that to stop just because he wants to feed. ] Let me. Please. I can almost taste it...
dew it
It's a danger, but not one he thinks threatens his life in any way. It's exciting because of that, and Hans can be rewarded with the increase of Oren's heartbeat and a generous stroke.
He breathes out:] Do it.
laugh at my dumb tags pls
He's never been more conflicted with sensation. Oren's hand takes up much of his attention, he never thought he could feel more but his lips around his neck and the warm slick taste of copper down his throat has Hans getting harder faster
better strongerthan he's ever gotten, especially considering he's undead. The sound of Oren's heartbeat rings in his head as he drinks down, and he might need to stop soon, perhaps, but not right now, not yet. He's enjoying this too much.Yeah, food and sex, who knew the two could go together so well? ]
no I luv it tho
He hadn't thought being fed on would be so appealing, but it's the show of control that has him, he thinks. He can appreciate it, admire it, crave it— but what he does notice is the severe lack of every other bit of Hans on him.
Pressing his palm up for a more teasing motion, he groans against Hans' ear, or the closest he can get. His own hips roll up desperately. Needy.]
Do tell me you at least to reward me for this feast of yours. You're making me impatient.
I had "Should Hans growl or purr idk" in my drafts this whole time
I plan to. [ Hans presses against Oren firmly, arms coming around to hold up his hips. Hans is strong enough for the both of them. He can let go. ] You've been very good.
the answer is obvs both
You want to fuck me? [He's too impatient now, dropping politeness for a low, wanting voice. He inhales slowly, fingers curling at the base of Hans' neck. Trusting Hans' strength and leaning forward, Oren kisses at his jaw, just near his ear.]
It's not just anyone who's allowed that. But for Prince Hans... [He moans there, pulling himself closer still. Get to it.] I'll allow it.