commentfic again

[mwestbelle]

I claim this entry for Frank/Gerard/Mikey VAMPIRE PORNOGRAPHY IN THE COMMENTS.

Please sit back and enjoy as thelemic and I astound and amaze you with our insane love/lust for commentficcing.

Comments

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard groans at the sensation of Mikey's teeth in his neck, sliding in deeper and then back out, and he gets a mouthful of his own blood. He has to pull away for a second to swallow it before catching Mikey's lips again, overwhelmed, and he can feel his brother's rock against him, just lightly. His hands go out to Mikey's hips again, thumbing over his hipbones but not dipping lower, not until Mikey tells him to. Because in this--whatever he chooses to call it--he can acknowledge that Mikey is the one in control, and he likes that.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Gerard's hand on his hips are torturous--so achingly close to what he wants, and yet so reminiscent of everytime Gerard grabbed him by the hips to help lift him onto the courtyard wall when he was too short to manage on his own (he's grown lanky in the past year or so, stretched out long like an uncoiled rope). Mikey's hips jerk forward again and he inhales deeply, whispering against Gerard's mouth: "Touch me."

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard murmurs out a shaky "Okay," before slipping a hand down to wrap around Mikey again. It's awkward, and he has to shift his hand to get a better angle, but the reactionary noise that Mikey makes spurs him on, moving quick and tight with his lips against Mikey's. There's almost no space between them, pressed together nearly hip to hip, and Gerard can feel every quiver of Mikey's body as his hand moves.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey slides both hands through Gerard's hair--still hanging down and free afte his days on the sickbed (though now Mikey is wondering if Gerard was every truly ill or just different)--and pulls him closer, bumping their foreheads and noses together so his sharp gasps and erratic breathing is warm on Gerard's face. It's even better this time; he feels less like he's about to be incinerated from within at any second, and he's more able to appreciate the slip of skin against skin.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard's own breathing is shaky, eyes opening and closing because he can't decide whether to settle them on Mikey's face or not. He twists his wrist, experimental, trying to coax a more definite reaction out of his brother. He's still unsure that he's doing things right, nervous in a way he can't quite explain, because he wants to be good for Mikey.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey groans, low and rough, hips rolling a little more rapidly in response to Gerard's new attempt. "Yes, Gee, god." He tilts his head just a fraction forward so he can pull Gerard's lower lip into his mouth, sucking and running his tongue over the almost-broken skin (there's a definite crack running across it from all the time Gerard spends biting his lip). There's a shadow of the taste of blood and it makes his stomach lurch because he's hungry, and he knows that Gerard's blood won't fill him, not in that way.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard lets out a sharp noise of encouragement, still moving his hand but trying to press closer to Mikey at the same time, feeling the sharp trace of Mikey's teeth--fangs--on his lip. There's a pain, deep in his gut, reminiscent of the three days he spent trying not to drink from Mikey. They're both hungry by now, ravenously so.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Even though it won't slake his thirst, Gerard's blood is still a treat too precious to pass by. Mikey bites down hard, and the taste of blood springing into his mouth sends him quickly over the edge. Once the aftershocks have faded, Mikey pulls back, blood staining his teeth and staining a little at the corners of his mouth and pulls his lips back in a small snarl. "I'm hungry, Gee." He still expects his big brother to provide for him and care for him, even when everything else has changed.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard smiles reassuringly, reaching out with his thumb to wipe the blood from the corners of Mikey's mouth. "I know, Mikey. I--I am too." He doesn't know what to do with the information--what do they do? Do they have to find someone else (hunt them down, like they're animals now) and drink from them, too? He doesn't know how any of this is supposed to go. "We'll figure something out, I promise. Let's just get changed, okay?"

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey nods, feeling a little more settled when Gerard casually wipes away the blood just as easily as he would wipe away pasta sauce. They're still brothers, no matter what. Stripping off his shirt and breeches (and thinking mayhap they'd done this backward), he steps into new pair, soft and black, and pulls another loose white shirt over his head. He smoothes his hands down the fabric and laces up his breeches quick and neat.

((Gonna go hang with the fam, see you later!))

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard searches through the pile before stepping out of his own clothes (they're a mess, he notes distantly) and sliding into a deep red shirt and a pair of black breeches. He tries not to watch at all as Mikey changes, but ends up glancing out of the corner of his eye. "Do you want to go home?" he asks, hesitant.

((Seeya <3))

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

"I--" Mikey pauses to think for a moment. They could go back, call the maid hysterical (have her sent away) and go back to their normal lives. But all eyes would be on them; Gerard would be expected to marry again and in a few years he would need to find a bride as well. There would be no more of this shameful thing between them. And perhaps that's what he should want, but he imagines worlds beyond the walls of the estate and the streets of town and Gerard's heat close to him. "No. I don't want to go back there."

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

"Then," Gerard hesitates, looking around the deserted square. "Where do we go?" They have little in the way of money with them and they're known by everyone in the town besides. Even if Mikey doesn't want to go back, he doesn't want to shame their family by sleeping on the streets.

Still, the thought of just leaving, traveling anywhere they want with no one to stop them sends a thrill through him. They could go anywhere.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

"Just," Mikey waves a hand expansively at the nght air. "Away." He snuggles close against Gerard, one hand at the small of his back and one pressing into the softness of his belly, uncaring that anyone emerging from a cantina or shop will see them and recognize him. "Somewhere new." His stomach lurches a little and he hisses at the feel of it, digging his fingers a little into Gerard's flesh as he winces. "But first, we need to eat."

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard frowns, considering, trying to keep the pain of Mikey's nails in soft flesh hidden. "Who--where do we find to eat?" He doesn't know if they have to kill the person or not, hopes not--he's heard things about what's probably 'their kind', tales of people in villages in the mountains who went mad, biting each other and killing without regard, but they're not like that, not exactly. He doesn't know what to call what he and Mikey are, but he knows it's not 'mad'.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

"I thought you would know." There's a stupid kind of hurt in Mikey's voice, because there's no reason Gerard would know anything more than he does (he's only been like this a few days longer and never even left his bed in all that time) but...Gerard is his brother and he's always trusted Gerard to know what to do. He notices the way his nails are digging in and relaxes his hand, stroking a little over where he may have hurt. "Perhaps, perhaps a drunkard?" Easy to lure and overcome, and he's surprised to be thinking such things, but there's no real horror. Only mild interest in the apparent switch in his mind.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard looks half-hurt at the tone of Mikey's voice, even though there's no way he would know any more than Mikey does. He has to smile at the suggestion, though, because as book-smart as Mikey is, of course he would find the logical solution. "That would do well, yes," he says, fond, ruffling Mikey's hair. "Would we find somewhere to take one or dine in the street, do you think?"

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey smiles and leans a little towards Gerard, puppyishly proud at his approval. "It would probably be safer to go somewhere." He bends a little and leans his cheek against Gerard's chest, noticing the absence of the pulsing thump that belongs there--he's not sure if it's an affect of the change or of the things he and Gerard have done to each other, but he feels needy and starved for physical contact. "We don't want to be spotted."

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

"No," Gerard agrees, arm wrapping around Mikey, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. "We don't." They break apart--just a little, and Gerard keeps his arm around Mikey as they walk, not caring who sees. The hunt (and Gerard can't think of any other way to describe it, hunting) is on, and they look in dark alleys and hollows in buildings for a drunkard that looks fresh but not strong.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

It doesn't take long--it's late already and time for the cantinas to empty, men leaving the warmth of ale and a grinning wench to stumble home to their unhappy wives--and Mikey is surprised at how easy it is. The man isn't tall, walking (or stumbling, rather) alone, and it's so easy to take him gently by the elbow with a smile and lead him off of the deserted side road into one of the night-blackened alleys (Mikey and Gerard find that they can see perfectly well anyway).

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

The man stumbles and falls onto the hard stone of the alleyway as soon as they let him go, picking himself up just a little to lean against the back wall. "Wha--wh.. I uh... who?" he mumbles drunkenly, shaking his head to try to focus as they draw nearer. They can hear distant chatter, people walking home on the main streets, but they have the road and alleyway all to themselves. No one to interrupt, Gerard thinks gratefully, and he makes an inviting gesture to Mikey. You want the first bite? Go ahead.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey grins and moves forward, quick and sharp. He thinks about the caresses and licking with Gerard, and knows instinctively that this is something entirely different. He grabs the man's hair with no little force, and pulls his head to the side, biting into the stretched line of his neck with no pause. It tastes different than Gerard's, duller somehow (it will be years before Gerard and Mikey actually realize how much sweeter virgins taste), but still good. The man shakes and whines a little, but nothing loud enough to draw attention to them. After several greedy mouthfuls, Mikey pulls off and twists his hand in the man's hair, offering him to Gerard.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard barely needs an invitation before he bites down on the other side, sharp. He hasn't realised just how hungry he is until now, drinking greedily with his hand in the man's hair, covering Mikey's. It feels good to do it like this, sharing what they've found, and he bites in again, after a moment pulling off and giving Mikey a chance to drink more. He, after all, had Mikey's blood, but this is the first still-human blood that Mikey has ever had.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey starts to dip his head again, then reaches out with his free hand and rests it on Gerard's head. He pushes down a little, guiding Gerard with him, so they both latch onto one side of the drunk's neck, Mikey sucking loud and messy, Gerard with just a touch more decorum. Gerard has already experienced the spreading warmth of the blood, but Mikey thrills to the heat sliding through his body, filling him to the brim.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard loves the feel of it, drinking with Mikey's face so close, so much so that if he leans his head up their cheeks brush. He lets out a low sound, sucking harder, and the drunk groans in pain, a trickle of blood from the corners of their mouths trailing down his neck. Gerard swallows another mouthful, wondering dimly just how much blood the man has in him, because he could do this forever and be content. He reaches out, takes Mikey's hand in his and squeezes, affectionate.