Solby One Shots ✔

5.Fangs and Magic

Sam doesn't quite remember what it feels like to be alive but he imagines it could be something like this. His heart is beating too fast in his chest, and his skin is so sensitized that every movement crests like a wave over him. His fingers clench in frustration, wrists bound together behind his back. His hair is sweaty, falling over his forehead and across his face.

Hundreds of years old, and more powerful than any one being has the right to be, and yet he is completely and utterly undone by the smirking, young wizard who holds him steady with two strong hands against his hips.

Aside from that pressure of his grip and Sam feels as though he would have eight bruises along the small of his back, if he could bruis Colby sits entirely still. His legs are splayed, back leaned heavily into the armchair that's been in his family for several generations.

His brown hair falls over his eyes, which glint blue with inner fire. He tilts his head back, revealing the inviting expanse of his throat, and Sam digs his teeth into his own lips and hisses.

Colby lifts his gaze to look into Sam's eyes, and his smirk grows just a bit wider. "No. Not yet, remember?" He swallows as he says the words, because he knows the movement will only draw Sam's gaze back to his throat and drive him mad.

And Sam is mad, as his fangs peek out from behind perfect, shell-shaped lips as his tongue traces the dangerous point of one pronounced canine. His eyes have gone darker with lust and desire, and touching Colby, straddling his lap as their naked legs press against one another, Sam can smell the heady scent of his blood.

He wants it, so badly. Nothing is ever enough with Colby, no touch no kiss no climax no taste. Everything leaves him wanting so much more.
He yanks at his restraints again and feels the gentle pulse of magic within them, keeping him bound with silk.

This is all one big game to Colby, a funny joke. Let's tie up the vampire with paper-thin cloth and see him sweat. Let's balance him on the precipice of orgasm for impossibly long minutes, and wait to see when he'll break of desperation.

How Colby has this level of control, Sam doesn't know. The other man is buried deep inside of him, as hard and wanting as Sam is. And yet Colby does not move his hips, does not chase his desire as Sam longs too. Instead, he just holds Sam steady in his lap and stares up at the ceiling.

"Don't look at me like that," Colby remarks softly. He hasn't looked back at Sam, but perhaps he feels the force of the other's glare. Colby sighs and trails one hand up Sam's side, his touch too gentle against Francis' sensitive skin. "You agreed to this, remember? And you know how to get what you want."

His cruelty and calculation are impressive, for one so young. He'd learned the rules quickly, back when Sam had murmured them against his skin, and now he uses them to his distinct advantage. In order for vampires to gain the most from their prey, they require permission.

They cannot enter dwellings without invitation. They cannot touch without consent. And if they want the blood they drink to fill them with life with a heartbeat and breath, with sensation in their skin and light in their eyes they must earn the privilege first.

Sam barters pleasure for life's blood, and for a while that was enough for Colby. Tonight through, when Sam had come to him, he had set different parameters. Sam had smiled, indulgent as always. A young wizard testing the limits of his strength, his ability to cast wards with only his voice it had been an amusing thought.

But once again, Sam had forgotten how truly exceptional Colby is.
"You know what to do." Colby leans forward and lets his words ghost over Sam's flushed skin. "Make me come."
The idea of that is alone to set off sparks deep within Sam, through the already coiling desire he had stopped fighting long ago.