He raises an eyebrow and looks… well, slightly annoyed.
“Excuse you. Every word was truth.” Which is when he sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose because this is so weird. Daniel should know this. Daniel has known this. So he feels like quite the fool holding up a finger.
“…don’t do what you did the- well, I guess you’ve never had a first time. But please. Nothing stupid.”
Which is when he lets his head go down and raises it to show that his eyes are glowing a bright green and as he opens his mouth to talk, there are fangs very very easily noticed in his mouth.
“I can’t imagine very much is different. The rest of the notes made it clear… just how similar things are.”
Of course, he doesn't know what he did the first time, but he does know what he does this time. And this time, he lets out a little laugh of disbelief. Because of course this is how this works. Of course this is what's going to happen.
But the one thing that this whole conversation has proven is that Kepler is Kepler. It's a weird sort of mental leap he has to make, but goddamn is he tired of people who aren't people.
"God, I hope you remember all of this after this is over," he tells him, reaching out to pull him down. "Because I don't want to have this conversation over again when you're back to being a wolf."
He chuckles and leans down to kiss him, the fangs slipping away so that he can kiss him without incident. His eyes might be glowing but his eyes are closed to savor the other man’s kiss.
“I’ll leave myself notes, just in case,” but he can’t help but think that he’ll remember. That’s usually how things work on this boat. “But hopefully you can stand the lack of dog hair?”
He doesn't even know that he's saying anything because Jacobi is still reliving that kiss. He wraps himself around him, hearing something about dog hair, and laughs to himself.
"Yeah, I think I'll be alright," he promises, remembering the way he lingered against his wrist. "What about you? Do you need - uh....anything?" he wonders.
He actually shivers a bit at that, laughing softly to himself. What the fuck is this place? He fully assumed that this would have freaked him right the hell out, but he's been through so much, and this person holding him? Is as much his Warren as the one who turns into a wolf.
"Well, I'm convinced," he tells him. Like it would take much. He raises his chin, letting him have his throat, his heartbeat racing though there's no fear.
It's something new and he's never turned down a new experience. Trying something just because he can is his favorite sort of thrill.
One hand cups the back of his head, the other stays around his waist. There’s nothing violent or shocking to it; there are kisses and suction and then there’s a brief pinch before the feeding starts…
And then it’s something else entirely. Jacobi will feel it, an overwhelming amount of pleasure washing through and over him, warmth and safety and affection shot through with need and want. It doesn’t die down or wash away, but with it comes a connection, and through that connection, there’s a sense of Warren, the jumble of love and need and worry he’s feeling, the want and frustration and fatigue. A few images come through, Warren in a kitchen that looks like some historical reenactment, working with someone else. A few galas, people dressed as much like confections as clothing, Then it switches to something more modern, to a hotel room that Jacobi would remember, a situation that comes straight from their past together. Only this time, Kepler has a hole in his side and Jacobi is yelling, offering his wrist, cutting it open to force the issue.
And Kepler takes it, drinks and this Jacobi gets to see that Jacobi’s first response, the two of them bonding that way for the first time.
Then Kepler is drawing away, the pleasure starts to ebb gently as he licks the wound to close it and start it closing and healing.
It doesn't hurt, he thinks initially. Not like he would have thought. It's supposed to hurt. In fact, it's quite the opposite. It wraps around him, enfolding him completely.
Jacobi wraps a leg around him and presses a hand into his back, sinking into the feeling, mixing it with his own feelings of love and grief and sadness and anger. Warren's influence calms him, soothes him. The memories crash over him, quick and intense, and leave him raw in the aftermath.
He rides out the wash of pleasure as it fades, fingertips brushing across Warren's skin until he starts to feel himself healing.
He sighs, turning for him, reaching for him, burying his face in his chest.
Warren’s hand rubs over his hair, holds him there against his chest, settles on his back to rub up and down, gentle and soothing. He doesn’t need to tell Jacobi he loves him. But he does, with murmured words and a kiss into his hair.
He’s much more relaxed now. Just getting that read on Jacobi, sharing with him, taking some of those jumbled and frustrating emotions…
It takes him a while to sort through it all, like trying to comb through differently colored wires, but he eventually settles, eventually gets where he needs to be, and pulls back, kissing him soundly.
It felt good to actually experience Warren's feelings (because that's obviously what was happening) and as jarring as it was, it was - god, it was amazing. It was like a part of him needed the reassurance that Warren's words would never be able to give him.
Still, he laughs, pulling away just slightly. "This...doesn't count as cheating, does it?" he wonders. "Because if you turn back into my wolf...boyfriend...and I get in trouble for kissing a vampire. And then I end up on the cover of a teen romance novel, I'm going to be pissed."
“According to everything? No. I’m just… me through a different filter right now. But. The man is the same. Same boyfriend. Just… boyfriend with slightly different teeth.”
Beat.
“Also he’s about a thousand years younger than me. But? Everything seems to be the same.”
"A thousand years younger," he breathes. "Wow." Which means that there are over a thousand more stories that he hasn't heard, things that he doesn't know. And a potential for so much more ridiculous bullshit.
He knows better than to bring that up. He's not that stupid.
"Enough that I couldn't tell much of a difference," he points out, lying a hand on his chest.
"But - hm. We'll have to do that again before this is over."
He can’t help a soft chuckle at that, before he’s reaching down to take the hand on his chest and pressing a kiss to each fingertip. Then he puts it back down.
“After a few days. That will give you time to recoup.” He kisses the mark, which probably feels a little tingly but doesn’t hurt. Wouldn’t even feel raw. “My memory says you enjoy that. And it seems like that remains the same.”
"Oh does your memory say that? Or is it the fact that I just asked?" he mutters, rolling his eyes.
Ass.
Not that he's really upset about it.
He turns, pressing his back against his chest. "Do you sleep?" he wonders. "You have to go over all the rules for me again, you know. I only know the wolf rules. Which aren't many."
Then he breathes out slow and starts running his hand up and down Jacobi’s arm.
“I sleep. In a place like this? I keep a regular schedule. No sun makes it easier. Sunlight burns. Holy objects… don’t do anything as long as they’re just there. But if someone with faith uses it? It’ll burn. Garlic is… unpleasant. Food is… impossible. Alcohol? Fine, if it’s mixed with blood.”
Jacobi laughs softly. "So you still give the whiskey speech?" he laughs, taking his hand and kissing his palm. "That's my favorite. I would hate to think there's a universe where you can't give it."
He cackles, turning around quickly and placing his hands on his shoulders, trying to push him down.
He knows that he has to earn trust again. He knows that he has to earn his place back where they were. And yet - everything already feels a bit lighter. A bit easier. There's still hurt, but it doesn't have to always be so hard.
"Are you prepared to argue the point?" he wonders. "Because you don't have a leg to stand on."
He goes, and he smiles up at Daniel very much like he hung the moon and painted the stars personally. That bond between them from the feeding adds dimension to the softness in his eyes.
“I do, and all I need is one question to prove you wrong.”
It's a trap he so happily falls into because he wants to. Because he sees that look and he loves it. He looks down at him and there's no sarcasm or anger behind his expression. He loves him without reservation, without hesitation.
Jacobi sighs deeply and practically collapses beside him, his head on his shoulder. "Goodnight, Warren," he mutters, because that's his only defense against the question.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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“Excuse you. Every word was truth.” Which is when he sighs and rubs at the bridge of his nose because this is so weird. Daniel should know this. Daniel has known this. So he feels like quite the fool holding up a finger.
“…don’t do what you did the- well, I guess you’ve never had a first time. But please. Nothing stupid.”
Which is when he lets his head go down and raises it to show that his eyes are glowing a bright green and as he opens his mouth to talk, there are fangs very very easily noticed in his mouth.
“I can’t imagine very much is different. The rest of the notes made it clear… just how similar things are.”
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But the one thing that this whole conversation has proven is that Kepler is Kepler. It's a weird sort of mental leap he has to make, but goddamn is he tired of people who aren't people.
"God, I hope you remember all of this after this is over," he tells him, reaching out to pull him down. "Because I don't want to have this conversation over again when you're back to being a wolf."
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“I’ll leave myself notes, just in case,” but he can’t help but think that he’ll remember. That’s usually how things work on this boat. “But hopefully you can stand the lack of dog hair?”
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"Yeah, I think I'll be alright," he promises, remembering the way he lingered against his wrist. "What about you? Do you need - uh....anything?" he wonders.
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“As I remember it,” he says against the skin, “you’ve never been shy about… sharing.”
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"Well, I'm convinced," he tells him. Like it would take much. He raises his chin, letting him have his throat, his heartbeat racing though there's no fear.
It's something new and he's never turned down a new experience. Trying something just because he can is his favorite sort of thrill.
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And then it’s something else entirely. Jacobi will feel it, an overwhelming amount of pleasure washing through and over him, warmth and safety and affection shot through with need and want. It doesn’t die down or wash away, but with it comes a connection, and through that connection, there’s a sense of Warren, the jumble of love and need and worry he’s feeling, the want and frustration and fatigue. A few images come through, Warren in a kitchen that looks like some historical reenactment, working with someone else. A few galas, people dressed as much like confections as clothing, Then it switches to something more modern, to a hotel room that Jacobi would remember, a situation that comes straight from their past together. Only this time, Kepler has a hole in his side and Jacobi is yelling, offering his wrist, cutting it open to force the issue.
And Kepler takes it, drinks and this Jacobi gets to see that Jacobi’s first response, the two of them bonding that way for the first time.
Then Kepler is drawing away, the pleasure starts to ebb gently as he licks the wound to close it and start it closing and healing.
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Jacobi wraps a leg around him and presses a hand into his back, sinking into the feeling, mixing it with his own feelings of love and grief and sadness and anger. Warren's influence calms him, soothes him. The memories crash over him, quick and intense, and leave him raw in the aftermath.
He rides out the wash of pleasure as it fades, fingertips brushing across Warren's skin until he starts to feel himself healing.
He sighs, turning for him, reaching for him, burying his face in his chest.
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He’s much more relaxed now. Just getting that read on Jacobi, sharing with him, taking some of those jumbled and frustrating emotions…
He kisses his hair again.
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It felt good to actually experience Warren's feelings (because that's obviously what was happening) and as jarring as it was, it was - god, it was amazing. It was like a part of him needed the reassurance that Warren's words would never be able to give him.
Still, he laughs, pulling away just slightly. "This...doesn't count as cheating, does it?" he wonders. "Because if you turn back into my wolf...boyfriend...and I get in trouble for kissing a vampire. And then I end up on the cover of a teen romance novel, I'm going to be pissed."
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“According to everything? No. I’m just… me through a different filter right now. But. The man is the same. Same boyfriend. Just… boyfriend with slightly different teeth.”
Beat.
“Also he’s about a thousand years younger than me. But? Everything seems to be the same.”
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He knows better than to bring that up. He's not that stupid.
"Enough that I couldn't tell much of a difference," he points out, lying a hand on his chest.
"But - hm. We'll have to do that again before this is over."
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“After a few days. That will give you time to recoup.” He kisses the mark, which probably feels a little tingly but doesn’t hurt. Wouldn’t even feel raw. “My memory says you enjoy that. And it seems like that remains the same.”
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Ass.
Not that he's really upset about it.
He turns, pressing his back against his chest. "Do you sleep?" he wonders. "You have to go over all the rules for me again, you know. I only know the wolf rules. Which aren't many."
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“Both. Like I said.”
Ass.
Then he breathes out slow and starts running his hand up and down Jacobi’s arm.
“I sleep. In a place like this? I keep a regular schedule. No sun makes it easier. Sunlight burns. Holy objects… don’t do anything as long as they’re just there. But if someone with faith uses it? It’ll burn. Garlic is… unpleasant. Food is… impossible. Alcohol? Fine, if it’s mixed with blood.”
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He shifts a bit, staring at the wall.
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“I’m glad to know, even a young version of me? Knows how to out a speech together.”
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"Of course you do. Talking is a fundamental part of who you are," he explains. "Like, the best thing that you're good at."
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“I didn’t even mention stakes and there he goes, one in the heart already.”
Daniel, how mean.
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He knows that he has to earn trust again. He knows that he has to earn his place back where they were. And yet - everything already feels a bit lighter. A bit easier. There's still hurt, but it doesn't have to always be so hard.
"Are you prepared to argue the point?" he wonders. "Because you don't have a leg to stand on."
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“I do, and all I need is one question to prove you wrong.”
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"Well? Go on, then."
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Jacobi sighs deeply and practically collapses beside him, his head on his shoulder. "Goodnight, Warren," he mutters, because that's his only defense against the question.
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"That's what I thought."
So very fond. And so very smug.
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