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

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey shifts his weight, one hip jutted out, and rubs a little at his still-overfilled stomach, playing bored. "Why should I? Convince me, Gerard, why should I let you come at all?" He catches the slight twitch of Gerard's hand and narrows his eyes. "Don't you dare. Don't touch yourself."

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard shifts again, forcing his hand away from his body. "I won't, I. I'll let you do anything you want, make it up to you. Anything at all." He doesn't often put the offer up that open-endedly, but he's so hard it's painful and Mikey is acting like he's not going to do anything and just leave Gerard to suffer.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

"Anything?" Mikey drums his fingers contemplatively against his lower belly and traces a few small circles. "That's quite an offer. I'll hold you to that, Gerard." He reaches out and traces just the tip of his middle finger along Gerard's cock and smiles. "Are you sure? You won't tell me you didn't mean it later?"

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard shifts forward, pushing against Mikey's finger, and even that little contact is enough to make him let out a breathy whimper, looking up at his brother desperately. "I'm sure, and I meant it. Anything you want to do." He has no idea what Mikey is thinking of, what he wants to do, but it doesn't matter. He trusts Mikey.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

"Don't move." Mikey kneels on the edge of the bed, shirt rucking up around his hips, and takes Gerard in his hand. It's too dry, too rough, but he strokes loose (but not loose enough to not feel the burn) until Gerard's body makes the way slicker and easier for him. He spiders his other hand up Gerard's belly and chest to play at a pale nipple.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard tries not to push into Mikey's hand, but his expression is grateful, a rough noise escaping from his (used) throat as Mikey's hands slide up his chest, playing with sensitive flesh. Some part of him wants to know what he's just committed to, agreed to do in exchange for this, but for now he can't gather the thoughts to consider it properly.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey twists his hand on Gerard's cock as he moves down--the way he's learned Gerard likes it, after over a century of touching and teasing and discovering--at the same time as he tweaks hard at the flesh between his fingertips. He leans down so he can whisper in Gerard's ear, breath not hot enough against his skin. "I'm going to bite you while you come, and I'll taste it."

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard groans, low and rough, trying to force himself not to move--it's a struggle, and his hips twitch minutely as Mikey's hand moves over him, at the vicious twist of pleasurepain that shoots through him. "Want you to," he gasps out, eyes meeting Mikey's for a brief moment. He knows this isn't what Mikey is asking for, but he can still appreciate it, the way Mikey's fangs are going to sink in, slow, through the delicate flesh in his neck.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey moves his hand faster, still leaning close, waiting for the tell-tale signs, the catch in Gerard's breathing that lets him know the end is near at hand, the groans that signal the final crescendo. He mouths at Gerard's neck just lightly, a bare scrape of lips against sensitive skin, waiting and ready to slide into soft flesh. He's certainly not hungry--Gerard's blood serves not as nourishment, but as a sharing of power.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard's breath stutters, catching in his throat, and he shifts into Mikey's hand just slightly, arching his neck at the feel of Mikey's teeth scraping over it. He's close--after getting himself this worked up (he still doesn't know why doing that (he still doesn't have a real term for it) to Mikey does it to him, but it does, ever time) he feels like he should have come ages ago. "Mikey, Mikey, can I--" and all he needs is one word from Mikey and he'll be there.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Just one hissed "Yes" and Mikey bites down on his neck. Gerard's blood has always tasted different from everyone elses. All kinds of blood have their own flavors (the sweetness of virgins to the bitterness of the elderly) but Gerard's is different in a way that's, well, different from the others. It's completely unique, and instead of filling his belly it feels like his heart is filling and warming.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

All it takes is Mikey's assent and Gerard is coming, gasping and arching his neck to urge Mikey's fangs deeper inside. He loves the feel of it, even the sharp pain as Mikey bites in (even if he doesn't admit it to himself, it's better than the feeling of Mikey sucking on his neck) and Mikey is never gentle with it.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey is happy to oblige, fangs sinking deeper, tearing a little around the edge of the original bitemarks (they'll heal by the next evening, but they'll be sore for the whole day). He drinks from Gerard, hot swallows that heat him in a flash, and pulls off, still gnawing a little at the wound. The combination of the too-much blood filling his belly and the warm boost of Gerard's makes him feel leaden and lazy, but he still presses his stained fingers past Gerard's lips, forcing him to lick away his own release.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard's tongue flicks out obediently, cleaning Mikey's fingers thoroughly, sucking on the tips before pulling away with a smile. He can feel the wound on his neck throbbing, a dull pain that makes him bite his lip, shift against Mikey again, even if he certainly isn't ready to go again.

"So--what did you have in mind?" he asks finally, looking up at Mikey. Anything could very well be anything, and while he's not going to kid himself and say they haven't done anything out of the ordinary together (one particular memory of Mikey tying him to the bedpost with strips of sheets, grinning, is particularly vivid) he knows it hasn't been everything.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey chuckles low in his throat and licks a hard swipe against the bite wound, already starting to close and fade though he knows from experience it's still painful, and the definite bump of his teeth against the sensitive flesh must sting.

"Not telling. Hold onto the headboard," he taps almost clinically at the inside of Gerard's thighs. "And spread your legs."

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

One side of Gerard's mouth quirks up into a smile and he nods again, sliding up to grab hold of the headboard. His body is thrumming with anticipation, with no idea what Mikey's going to do. He stretches, arching his back to get the kinks out before lying back, spreading his legs.

"And now what?" he asks, sly.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

"Stay." Mikey crawls back off the bed and returns with the leather straps they've used to anchor their possessions to horses and carriages. Now, though, he wraps one around Gerard's wrist, painfully painstaking, pulling tight until the flesh on either side is red and a little raw without any struggling. He does the other wrist, and then each of Gerard's ankles, pulling his legs wide (almost too wide) apart to strap him against the bedposts at the foot of the bed.

Back to his bag, and then he returns and sets down the knife next to the candle on the nightstand, making it glint silver. He reaches up and starts unbuttoning his shirt slow, one button slipping through at a time. "You know that you haven't been a good boy for me, Gerard."

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard shifts, testing the bindings, finding himself totally unable to move except for shifting upwards. Even that makes his wrists and ankles burn, the straps rubbing against soft skin. He sucks in a sharp breath, only able to turn his head far enough to see the glint of something on the bedside table. He trusts Mikey, trusts him absolutely, but he doesn't know what Mikey is planning to do. They can't hurt each other, not permanently anyway, but he knows from experience Mikey can leave marks that sting.

"No," he says softly, watching as Mikey unbuttons his shirt. "I haven't, that's true..."

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

"I'm afraid I have to punish you for that." He doesn't add I'm sorry or I don't want to because those would both be lies, and they don't lie to each other, not ever. Shirt undone, he unbuttons both of his cuffs before slipping it off his shoulders and tossing it onto the chair. He retrieves the candle from the nightstand first.

"You lusted." He tips his hand, quick and merciless, and the hot melted wax spills into the hollow of Gerard's collar bone.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard hisses in pain, the wax burning on his skin, hotter than anything he can remember feeling. The pain is searing, shooting straight through him, and he strains against the restraints, gritting his teeth--but the initial shock of pain fades, and it feels almost good, a warm throbbing heat against his collarbone.

He doesn't say anything in his defense, waiting for Mikey's next move.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

"I think," Mikey says, voice deceptively mild, calm as he drizzles a thin line of wax down Gerard's chest, "you need to remember who you belong to. And since you can't seem to do that on your own--" He pauses to make eye contact, to be sure Gerard is listening before he upends the candle to send scalding wax splashing over Gerard's cock.

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard lets out a hoarse shout, body twisting helplesssly in the restraints, unable to move away or make it stop stinging. He gasps out a breath and then another, biting his lip and trying to unfocus his mind, let Mikey do what he wants. It's always been clear to him (and to Mikey, always to Mikey) who he belongs to, and the burns will sting every time he thinks about it or--and he supposes this is Mikey's intention--thinks about Frank.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

Mikey smiles, just a little secretive smile but there's a world of intent behind it. He sets the candle down carefully, and picks up the knife. Keeping it close to his body so Gerard can't see it, he crawls to kneel between Gerard's thighs, spread so wide. He runs the flat, cool side of the knife along the inside, from knee up to the crease of his hip and leans down. "Maybe I'll use this later, Gerard. Would you like to feel that inside you, would it make it clear to you who owns you?"

[thelemic.livejournal.com]

Gerard can't see what it is that Mikey has pressed against his thighs, but he can feel it, the edge of the knife ghosting along the length of them, and he whimpers. "Don't, you don't need to, I know--" he manages, taking a deep breath and praying Mikey doesn't actually want to.

The frightening thing is, he's not sure he'd actually refuse if Mikey asked.

[mwestbelle.livejournal.com]

"Shhh," Mikey croons, ducking his head to kiss the near-quivering pale flesh inside Gerard's thigh. "If you're good for me now, maybe I won't have to."

He sits back up, back mostly-straight, and traces his fingers along the skin of Gerard's belly. "Subtle, I think, would be a waste of time. We'll have to give you something that won't make it easy for you to forget again."