... What felt like hours was not nearly so long. The bedroom gleams with the dying light of beeswax and more powerful paschal candles. A ruddy glow descends as mid-evening rolls around. Burnished gold, copper, and flecks of greenish blue dance about the stone and wood walls, minions of the magic cast. The black and silver deco of the bed take on a sudden hue here and there. Shiny black stays firmly so, but glinting silver sparkles in the spectrum.
     It is not the bedroom of a hunter. Headboard and footboard are elegant pieces, open with black slats. Not so tall either...the short style of New York. Nightstands match, their thin, square legs like skyscraper pillars. It speaks more of Chrysler than Paris. White carpet rests under everything, and the fireplace roars within glass with black and silver inlay. Other than a low, oval glass and onyx coffeetable with black leather seating around it, it is a sparse place.
     But for the last hour, the room has been filled with the sound of lapping flames, the drip of wax, the shudder of sheets, and the ragged breathing of two.
     Edward's eyes open and he looks ahead where his right hand grips one of the headboard's square black slats. There, his fingers open and close, no less rhythmic than the rest of him. His muscular arm swells and laxes with the tension, while his left hand gently holds yours outward, across the open sheets.
     Ivory linen and obsidian velvet cover what is below, but you, Valan, are well aware. Edward's knees are parted beneath your own, quite relaxed even as they serve as the fulcrum of his motion upward and inward. His kisses return fervently, and his short-cropped dark hair only emphasizes the harmony of color that fills the space you share. Another kiss lands at your shoulder, chin, jawline, and finally at the softest part of your throat, the part he likes best.

     He breathes again, a mix of cold and warm air rushing at your skin. Exhale...and there is nothing but warmth.
      Skimming pressure. Light and grasping. Delicate and formidable. Gold... to your dark...
     You and he live out as embodiment of this chamber. You, the shining darkness. He, the burnished bronze and gold -- and the silver at his waist. A cool touch. A metal touch. A sparkling herald to what happens beneath the ivory linen and obsidian velvet.
     Here... where you first touched me... where you were introduced to a fencer's flexibility...
     Here, where you first spied the garnets...
     Here, we collided in commotion, sweat, pleasure and joy. And it has not lessened. Here, again.
     Valan meets the fulcrum of your legs, his lifted, twining about your waist as an added anchor. And it tightens him around you. And with every push, with every joining with you -- hardly passive, your Valan -- he clasps you and releases you. Skimming press. His fingers curl against your skin -- your side, your arm, wherever he can reach. And his fingers tighten around your own and upon the softness of the sheets.
     And his head tips, and he tightens. His body hardening -- not only with the knot in his groin -- but with the anticipation...
     Of your mouth closing against his skin. Of the ripples and waves that will run through him. Of pleasure that is... simply... beyond mortal comprehension...
     He is already twisting with it, your Valan. He groans your name, "Eduard..." and French follows in an effluent rush. You know... either way... he will come again. You know the tremble. You know the change in his tone. In everything. The universe about to ...snap into place... again...

     Where I think there is surprise, you are not so unawares.
     When I have thought you took things too lightly, you had them in perspective.
     When I thought you would not understand, you had already imagined.
     And this? How will you see this? Know it? In your mind's eye, have you already found peace with this moment? Seen it, captured it, and experienced the emotion and ache of it?
     Maybe you have. I will not doubt you.
     The anticipation lingers. Something imminent. Edward's amber meets your garnet again. And again. But never does his face stray. Instead...he seems closer. More imminent. His mouth open, his lips draw damply across the skin Edward has come to love.
     The sound...it seems to come from his feet, moving up, through where you are joined, only to gain even more strength before filtering at your ear. A groan, your name, a grunt. It matters not. The source is the infinite, made manifest now, upon you.
     I pledge myself to you, Valan Montague, here and now. You and I.
     You...and I.
     Edward's mouth parts familiarly, the rush heightening. But you have been here before, have you not? When Everything Converges. Mind, body, spirit, desire, blood. They explode fantastic, blinding all senses. All existence.
     When the silence comes. It follows the bending of the universe. His heart and yours, pulsing together, in time. When you and Edward slide along the river together, joined by a ribbon of nectar.
     Yet this time, the ribbon flutters...and lengthens...

     Skimming pressure turns to hold. Fingers curling, bracing. For what he has come to know. For what he has come to understand. For the moment that Life is known. Felt from skin to the last cell of his blood. From his mouth, crying out your name... to his soul, recognizing its place -- and your place with it. From his toes, curling. His legs, tightening around your waist. His thighs turning to stone. His hips curling, erratic. And where he holds you most intimately... rippling. Where one grasp and release folds upon another. And another...
     And another...
     It does not end. This time, it does not end...
     His hand joined with your hand clasps tightly. A second brace against cataclysmic pleasure. As his back and hips, his thighs -- as the rest of him convulses lightly. And his head tips yet. There is no call for it to end. No, there is no call. For he has fallen into the heartbeats. He can feel them.
     Ami... the universe beats in time. In time to this. In time to you and I... joined. Where you go, I go. And in my groan, my softening sighs of sound, do you hear your vow answered? I answer it...
     Yes...
      "Oui... oui...." Valan's voice whispers it now. And his thighs begin to loosen their grasp. His hips stop. He stills. Until This... this is all. To feel the unisoned sound, the unisoned feel.

     Encourage me. Encourage me in the oldest sense of the word. Strengthen my heart and resolve to do what I have to do, Valan. What we've said we wished. Even now, as you slacken, my eyes fill with tears and my body sinks. I know what that means; how you feel in my arms.
     Blessed Christ knows that I never asked for something like this. That my heart would be so stolen by another being, that I could not bear to think of being without him. Him. That I should find myself, lifting us both up.
     I must rise. If I do not, I shall sink into sadness as surely as you sink into death. There. Please don't feel like that...so soft and malleable. Arms and legs lax about me. Please come back, please come back...
     I can feel my arms tighten, the blood flowing dimly now across my tongue. I tire already of drinking. I have had my fill. But I have to have more. All of it. That...is how they say it is done, oui?
     Forgive me and come back. I know you will, but I want to hear you say it...

     Though his body slackens, his hand within your hand grips. Stay with me through this. I am with you. I am with you. Forever. All of his strength, all that remains in him, is transferred to his hand. His fingers. Grasping through the pleasure. Grasping through the heaviness that has settled in. An anchor against the swirling dizziness. The light-headedness. The vertigo...
     Falling, ami...
     But his hand grips as much as it can. Needing a grasp. Needing some hold. Some hold as the rest slips away.
     It is like when the sun slips beneath the horizon. I am in that moment. I am in that time. There... the last slip. Where you wait and you wait and you wait and you think you will never see the sun set. And then you are startled when it is gone. Startlement. That the time has come.
     Dieu, ami... that is what it is. That is what it is like...
     "Je viendrai encore..." his French slurs. I will come again. Something to the pleasure? Shall he come thrice? It would not be the first night for that. Or was it... was it a pledge. His vow. His promise.
     His heart quivers. A fluctuation you understand. A fluctuation he misses. It is the last mortal fight. It is the last hold upon the fraility of the Natural World. You hear a breath. You know it was your name. I love you...
     His fingers slacken, not suddenly but very like the slipping of the sun beneath the horizon. Gradually. But still... when the moment comes.. when the sun is out...
     It always startles...
     Valan's eyes are open partway. Gleaming in that last moment. Green and gold. And upon his mouth, his full mouth that was so recently flushed with all the kissing, holds a parted smile.

      "I love you, I love you...." I keep repeating it for moments upon moments, upon minutes. "You are so beautiful," I whisper at your ear, as still as you are. My mouth is filled with blood and water, my eyes with tears. My heart aches and I clutch you to myself as tightly as I possibly can.
     "Valan? I love you." Can you even hear me anymore?
     The headboard is ahead of me. I stare at it...Christ, I don't know how long. But I will you back to me, in all your glory. How you smile, how your hair moves. How you laugh with me. At me. How the silver rings your hips. How you grumble when I refuse to fence with you. How human, mortal, and loving you are.
     I find myself rocking after a while, still staring at the headboard. Some of the candles are gone now, but the fireplace still rages. That I can feel, but little else. But then my hand moves, touching your hair, pushing it from your face. Seeing you against me, both of of sitting up, wrapped around each other as if this night was no different than any other.
     Here. Let me move this, angelos. And you smile at me still and I smile back as I wait for the next part.

     I will never age...
     I will never have to pass this way again...
     Though... truly... this other world... wherever it is... it feels... it feels... strangely home. But I turn away from it. As I turned away from home years ago. And I go to you, as I knew in my blood I would be turning to something amazing. And I found you...
     I found you...
     I love you...
     Valan is still. Quite still. His thighs have slackened, loosened around your waist, but his legs do not lower to the bed. You feel his skin, supple. Still warm. It will take time for that to recede. But it is happening. No more blood to pump. The heart has stopped.
     It is time...

     ...Blood spilled, his skin was stained. His lips ruddied. His mouth filled. And his throat. And you saw it. You saw the ruddiness return, but ... different than before. More beautiful. More...
     Startling...
     The brilliance returned to his eyes, gilt-green. Gold and green. The brown is only a memory now. But what matters... they shine with gold. And do you recall the elation when the lips parted with a smile. When the smile that was an echo of mortality spread in sensuality of Knowing. Of Becoming. Valan took a breath...
     Even though there was no need...
     And you were there, when he called your name. When his eyes glimmered, seeking an answer. When his body writhed, you held his hands. You held his head. You told him you loved him. You told him it would be alright.
     He had to bathe. After... that. Not unlike doing mushrooms... when you lose control of your body. And you were here to see him through it.
     I reach out with my hand, and I chuckle. It feels so strange. Oh, ami.
     "So... strange..." his voice is smooth, warm. That mid-baritone. Valan pulls a new shirt on. His hair is golden brown, gleaming. Still damp from the shower. Glittering, gold-green eyes shift to you. It is like being... on acid... or... such strong X. All the time. "I ... can feel ... everything." A hand goes up to his head, raking through damp hair. And he chuckles, and moves back to the bed. "Did... I... ruin your sheets?"
     His strolling gait is... slower than normal. He has been through much. And getting used to... feeling... everything.

     "No..." Edward smiles, lying across the velvet. Everything was made perfect again. Yet he remains paler than pale, a reminder of what has happened. As you walk about, testing new gait and stride, he sits and marvels at you in quiet. His own hair has dried now, a bath taken before yours. He would be ready when you woke again, and so he was.
     "No, you ruined nothing," Edward's lazy smile comes, his hand extended above the onyx rails. He was overjoyed to feel you wake again, beyond relieved that you would come back in any form. Delighted to know what you are now.
     "It must be odd," he whispers, other hand at his cheek, elbow propping up on the velvet. Remembering. A smile follows, sympathy and happiness for you and the new life that is yours. While he is what he is to you, he is not in your skin. Things cannot be changed. Your existence is your own.

     He cannot sit still. Already. It is moving through him. Growing. And now... pacing. Trying to keep up with himself. It makes for a tremble here. A shiver. And then the bed shifts and sounds with his weight. Valan lands beside you, curling against you. A pair of boxers pulled on, like the t-shirt -- for reasons he can't remember. Everything is squirmed out of once he is on the bed. You remember this? What it was like when you didn't know what to do with yourself? Whether to fuck, drink, stand, jog, fight or sleep? You see your Valan move through the dressing, the undressing, the pacing, the lying down. But as he rolls back against you, he stills easily. But his eyes... his eyes are kinetic. Moving. Looking at everything. "Tellement energie, amour, je me sens comme je pourrais aller et aller et aller... et elle ne serait pas assez de faon ou d'autre. Nous devrions aller danser..." Valan turns his head, his smile pulling at his mouth. Brilliant. So brilliant.
     And this his body seeks to wind with yours again. His head at your chest. "My throat is dry... can... I drink... maybe wine...something... just for my mouth. Il est comme en faire les champignons qui votre bouche devient sche. Comme le coton. Seulement... plus. Il est plus que cela, mais comme cela..."

      Comfort. That he can provide. Edward smiles as you curl up against him. In the outside room, one of the large glass clocks chimes midnight.
     Edward grins, "Whatever you want, ami," he explains, "...but are you sure you want wine?" Maybe something else would appeal. "Hmm," he thinks, sitting up towards your side of the bed where a pitcher rests, "...how about a little water? It is best to start." Edward stares at the crystal as he pours, black silk boxers covering him. The water splashes, and soon he returns to you, offering it. "Try this...and then a bit of wine afterwards? As for dancing," he lies back upon the velvet, looking to you, "...maybe...after we get to London?" Edward's hand extends across the crushed obsidian bedding, looking to touch your fingers. He's quiet again, then chimes, "Any...thing you want to talk about, ami?" Questions? How are you doing?

     Ah, Valan... you are racing... it is more than you have ever known. Nothing you have ever taken has ever come close. It burns. I want... I want...
      I look to you and I want. I just want you. And you see it in the gold. And you know it in the smile. The parting of the lips. The distending of the fangs. And then Valan laughs. "Dieu... ami... it is... the greatest aphrodisiac. The greatest drug. And you... you are so ... Dieu, Eduard. Beautiful..." But I cannot cry. How strange. "Ami... " And his fingers find your own. And he sits up to take the water. "Do I... just swallow... just like normal. I mean..." He would flush, but cannot control that yet. "Where does it go?"
     "When do you show me.. how you do it? How you... hunt people..." A thousand miles per hour. That is what it feels like. Your blood is so powerful. And he feels shot out of a cannon...

     ...It came so heavily. Unbelievable, the weight of dawn. There was no doubt that I would be safe from sunlight, ami. After pacing. After talking. After holding. After clothes were removed again, I closed my eyes. And it wasn't like before... when you could put a picture in your mind and lull yourself to dreaming. It was... simply...
     I Was and then I Was Not.
     And now I am awake...
     Green-gold eyes sparkle. Unnaturally bright, like some combination of emerald and topaz. But there is no breath. There is no unconscious shifting. The eyes open, but the rest of the body feels like lead.
     Like the dead...
     Swallowing... I want to swallow. I want to move. But...
     I cannot...
     Am I dead? Am I just... dead? Did I just think that I lived but I am gone?
     The body would jerk from having frightened itself. If it could.
     "Ami..." so soft, his voice. Warm and lilting. The cadence of modern French. Ami. But upon that cadence is a tightening of panic. Are you here? Valan closes his eyes, then opens them again. Shifting them. And slowly... he begins to turn his head...

     "Oui," comes the voice, even and full. He is there and has been so for a while. Edward turns his head to face you, a smile upon his face. He has not gone so far himself this evening, resting between the sheets, knee bent. Thinking. His hand slips against yours, once more connecting.
     A kiss. It lands at your cheek, no less soft than the bedding you share. In the time, he's studied you, and asks, "Are you alright?" Something wrong? Ah. Still getting used to...being and not being.

     And then it comes again... that energy. It is like a rising wave. It moves through me. I will have to learn how to listen to it one day. To what it is trying to tell me. You will teach me this, no? At the ends of the rising wave, where it must stop... at my fingertips... I move. Just a curl. And then I smile. I am moving. Ah, Valan... so easily scared are you. That you thought yourself stiff with rigor mortis...
     There is one thing he does not have to concentrate upon to do, and that is smile. It is a warm look. It is a golden expression. "Bonjour," says Valan, his voice soft still. "I feel heavy. Do you feel heavy, ami?" His fingers curl around your fingers and he turns his head to look around. "It is strange... it doesn't feel like me .. did you feel this way?"
     More time passes and green-gilt eyes turn back to you. And a leg shifts. The cresting wave of energy returns. Only this time it has a name.
     Hunger...
     You can see it in the slanting of his smile. That come closer look. "I must sound like a child, yes? What makes the rain?" Valan laughs, his eyes sparkling.

     "Inexperienced," Edward clarifies, scooting closer though he remains upon his back. A wink to you, but then his sable eyes lift to the ceiling.
     "I guess...it felt that way once," he whispers, storytelling mode. "I do not remember much of it to tell the truth, ami. It was...so fast. Time piles up and you can only remember so much." His fingers twine around yours further, entangling wholly. "You will forget too," he smiles reassuringly, looking back to you, "...one night. It will be hard to recall. But by then...will it ever have mattered so much?"
     The bed sounds as Edward rolls finally, upon his side, lips at your cheek. Another kiss. "I love you," he whispers barely audible at your ear. "And the rain is caused by God, watering his tulips..." he smirks.

     "Are you sure it is not caused by God's pet dog, watering God's tulips?" he counters, and as he turns his head, his mind, his being to you, his body begins to follow. Arms animate. Thighs flex and stir, and from his sprawl upon his back he turns slowly upon his side. Seeking warmth. Seeking You...
     His mouth brushes your mouth. A teasing touch. And he smiles. "Hmmm... I will get used to it... and life will be crowded by... more interesting things... than God and his tulips..." There is barely a pause before you hear, "I love you," in reply against your mouth.
     Hunger...
     It thuds against the air around him, unconsciously. And his mouth opens, parting. Seeking. Seeking for what it enjoys. Seeking for what it loves. Seeking for what it needs. And you feel it. For the first time in what shall become... who knows... maybe even a nightly occurrence...
     The drag of the very tip of a canine against your mouth. He does not know what to do... but a part of him moves... like a virgin boy... seeking purchase. Inexperienced. Has he ever been more beautiful? Being so new...

     The mirroring smile grows. Edward's nose brushes yours, his eyes half-closed. Still in the receding arms of Nocte, he enjoys the drifting state. A nuzzle here, and smirk there. Hand at your hip and stomach.
     It is all no different than before. Each touch says it. Seduction. Love. Joining. A kiss that flares deeper. I am not opposed to it. I was not before, and I am not now...

     When was the last time you were bitten, Edward? How long has it been, can you even recall it? Who was it. Who was so fortunate to have tasted you...
     Your lower lip is captured. It will not yield much, this is true, but it is impossible to resist and easier to manage. Once tasted, shall you ever get him off of you, Edward? The suckle upon your lips tightens, and then your lower lip is captured. Is this how it's done, ami? Is this what I do? What I am? You feel the tentative uncertainty. The inexperience. And behind it, a roll of lust against the blood.
     And the tips of fangs and the curves of them move against your lip and he tightens. From where his mouth grips you to his toes. And then...
     Valan tries it...
     A pluck of sharpened teeth against your mouth. A strike but he does not sink inside. This is unchartered territory, non?

     His assent comes in a whispered sigh and close of his eyes. It has been forever. Since Maria? Certainly not. Maybe some waifish mod girl, some time later when I was in a drunken stupor and cared not. On the occasion when my self-preservation took a backseat to the chemicals that coursed through my veins.
     But that is not now. Now I am clear. I shall remember this night for as long as I exist.
     No matter where the piercing takes place, the effect is the same. The need for more. Edward's body laxes, slipping against the sheets. This is how it is, ami, for any of us. A simple nick brings pleasure divine. It was so for you, it is now for me.
     Hands instinctively lift, expecting to hold you. To bring you closer. Move closer. The blood trickles forth, smelling of wet highway and the leather of a quickly moving car. Rush. Everything a rush! Hurry! Hurry and let the winds fly about us...

     It comes first in the rush of blood. Even the small taste... even the trickle... pulls him along for the rushing ride. And his mouth closes upon the wound, suckling, kissing. Wild. It is sudden. It is furious. Like flying. I remember the first time you and I skiied down the mountain together. The rushing race. I think of it now...
     It propels him, and Valan rolls against you. You hold him, and Valan presses against you. The kiss deepens and his mouth pulls. So much pleasure.
     The taste of blood -- it hasn't even hit him. The feeling is too incredible. The rush. The burn.
     Valan swallows and murmurs your name. The blood trickles free, left to trickle free -- and then the roll of his tongue in a languid swipe. And then the wound heals. You heal so rapidly. Like magic. Parting, his lips drag over your chin, to your throat. To the crook of your neck. You loved it there. When I used to kiss you there.
     As you spread out upon the sheets, Valan covers you. But it is not he between your thighs, non. He straddles you. His fingers twining in your hair as his mouth opens, clasping at your skin. Pulling. And you feel his canines try again. New territory. Now... how is this managed...?

     It will come as all things. Like the blink of an eye. The lift of a breeze. Edward thinks little now of how you shall proceed. You already have sent him where all embraced go. He can only feel the need for more.
     Legs part, unsure of what you are offering or taking. Whatever it is, he is receptive. Edward's hands are broad at your back, hands that have held reins as easily as the wheel of a car or the handles of a Ducati. His fingers drift outward, pulling skin taut. Enticing while bracing.
      As your lips part, his head turns. Cheek presses at the linens, enjoying the silken cloth. There. Do you not see it? We all do. The beating of my heart thuds easist where the skin thins at my throat. The fall away from my face. All of our memories together are secreted there, ready for you to find again.

     Is it like when an infant first learns to bring food to the mouth with its own hands -- that suddenly everything is potential food. To know something is to taste it, to taste it is to know. It is how humans learn. It is how immortals learn. Amazing. A second birth has a second childhood...
     Canines extend -- it seems to happen like lightning. A reflex. A pull to the thudding skin. And Valan groans. Deep sound that rumbles in his throat. At the feel of flesh parting. Yours. Delight. Dieu. And in your arms, beneath your hands he is both taut and pliant. And in unconscious ways, his hips move. A pantomime of motions made just yesternight.
     Trembling. I am trembling. Filled with fire. Racing. In a swirl, more energetic than the most captivating trance dance. More intense than even the most intense bout of fencing. Greater than any image or memory or metaphor. I have no philosophy for this. I only know I Want and I Love. And this... this is... everything...
     Valan's mouth lifts from the crook of your neck where his face has been buried, and as the wounds close... such magic... his tongue presses against your skin, capturing the stray rivulets he missed. "Dieu... Eduard..." he whispers, only taking in air to speak. "Incroyable... " The word I have repeated a thousand time since meeting you...

     Now the fog lifts. Beyond, an outstretched glade of thick green and black. I lead my horse through the night and my dogs. They walk with me, my eternal companions.
     But there is someone else now. I look to my side and see someone else's shadow, catching up quickly. He is unseen at first, but soon I know. Your hand slips into mine and smile at me.
      It is how the thoughts go, I remember now. The dream has come for ages. But now, it's different.
      "Oui," I whisper. All of it. "Incroy..able." The words barely come out. My eyes open and I see the man, the vampire, that loves me. I still cannot believe it. A vampire. Can you see the bliss upon my face? For a while, you have done the impossible. You have stilled me.

     Your horse, your hounds and I...
      And I? Before this I sat in the center of a swirl. I watched the world move around me. I sipped coffee. I smoked. I read. My eternal companions. And then... then there was a touch on my shoulder. A chair pulled out beside me. And then there you were. And I have been smiling ever since. Ever since, ami...
     Valan lifts his head, his mouth brushing at your ear. His tongue curls around the lobe of your ear and with a teasing pull he lifts. And smiles. Looking down to you with his sun-filled eyes. Gold and green. Topaz and emerald. His hand, strong hand... but an aristocratic hand... lifts to your face. A light touch. A tender touch.
     Non, I have never seen you so still.
      "I will make you breakfast," Valan murmurs. "Do you wish anything, ami? I will get it for you..."

     Edward's face lights up. Brows arch, his lips curl. Hands remain at your back, lighter now.
     "No, ami, I don't need anything else..."

Posted by rowan at February 10, 2001 05:10 PM