Meme - give me something to do?

[winter]

Several work-related things are giving me enough (positive) stress to make my guts turn somersaults. In an attempt to distract myself, a meme swiped from ninjatrauma and an abject plea for participation.

Comment with two characters I write, and I'll write you their first kiss. It may be just an idea, a sentence, or an entire fic.

Any fandom I've ever participated in, or just watched, too :)

Comments

[alice_montrose]

Meh. Since someone beat me to the obvious Coldfire pairing... I remember Vlad/VK, but I'm not sure if you wrote Vlad/Herbert. If you did, just ignore this - if not, the obvious should happen. XD

[winter]

Can't remember if I threw this one your way, but I think it would count ;) Roses for Lucifer universe:


Herbert laughed, then set the hairbrush down and opened a box on the table. “I wouldn’t mind. I just wish I could remember what half this stuff is for.”

Vlad rose to his feet, curious, but the shiny trinkets all looked innocuous. He wouldn’t put a poison ring or two past the brat’s morbid imagination.

Herbert picked an intricate hair clasp, but the wet strands were refusing his efforts. He shot Vlad a look over his shoulder. “I think your hands would be more suited to this work?”

There was a breathless catch in that boyish voice that made Vlad blink, moreso when the brat’s fingers lingered on his as he took hold of the clasp.

Interesting. Hellishly interesting.

“I’ll have to get used to putting on all of these again,” Herbert continued, picking up a pair of jewelled earrings. “I was... distracted over the summer.”

Vlad finished up with the hair clasp, then gathered the strands back from Herbert’s neck. The boy remained calm under his touch, as if unaware of the fact a predator had just bared his throat.

“I think the holes might have closed up.” Herbert placed one earring against his ear. “Still, it’s just a question of determination.”

The sharp metal sank into soft flesh. A trickle of blood slid, drop by drop, down the golden skin.

Vlad remained still, taking one slow breath. The scent.

Then Herbert shot him an impish look and pushed the other earring into his ear.

Vlad could the boy had put a lot of time into fencing by the way those shoulders felt under his hands, though the brat had the grace not to struggle as Vlad leaned in to lick that enticing trail. Sweet as sin, though barely a taste, and he ached to bite down on the taut skin under his lips.

No, too young to turn and too valuable to kill, though he did not deny himself a scrape of fangs as he pressed against the boy’s back, letting him feel the exact effect this game had on him.

Herbert shivered, gasped, stood perfectly still under Vlad’s touch.

The boy’s skin fair burned Vlad’s fingers, but he didn’t let that stop him from leisurely exploring all of that lean body. He moved his hands along Herbert’s arms, sides, thighs, almost hard enough to bruise. Then he lifted the boy’s shirt, groping between Herbert’s legs just as roughly.

Herbert made no sound at all.

Vlad was not known for caution or prudence, but what he was famous for was his cunning and suspicion. He pressed his face against the boy’s hair, gathering his wits and forcing down the images of things he could do to the boy, ways to break that taut body into a shattered heap of pleasure and exhaustion.

Herbert turned his head, tilted it, bringing his throat to Vlad’s lips. Vlad could see one grey eye, glazed, mindless. Did the boy know what he was doing?

The blow sent Herbert sprawling on the table, the jewelry scattering.

“I don’t like being played,” Vlad growled. “Grow some feathers, nestling, before you shake your ass around.”

The boy’s dazed eyes blinked several times. “You don’t want me?” he whispered, sounding stunned.

“You?” Vlad prodded the boy’s leg with his foot, resolutely ignoring the fetching images conjured by the spread thighs. “I have better taste than that, little boy. Who’d want you anyway?”

He saw a flash of anger in those eyes before he turned on his heel and stalked out of the room. Once on the staircase, he allowed himself a grin. Oh, he’d dealt a blow to the brat’s pride, but so had the brat to him – thinking he could tempt Draculea into doing as he wished? What kind of idiot was the child, trusting him with blood and life?

Or, he wondered fleetingly, was it trust that Vlad would crush both as eagerly as he would those elegant lips?

The thought chilled him as much as the night air as he walked out into the courtyard, but was chased out of his head by a stronger blow. Vlad swore and jumped out of the way of the second mug, tossed down from the window above him with vicious precision.