Title: What is blood but the wine of life?
The first time he felt the pull of his ¼ nature, he tried to resist it, ignoring the fact that it's a game you're designed to lose every time. Human blood keeps you alive, so thirst is a warning system. You shut it down, you go back being dead. It doesn't work like that for him, of course, as he's not a real vampire, just an imitation, but it seems like he's got all the perks of being one.
Anyway fangs came down and he ran for cover in the first bar.
Cherry wine looks a lot like blood if you look at it under a certain light. It's a watered down red with some darker tones, not quite the same shade as intravenous blood but close enough to pretend it is the real thing, poured for the beasts like you in an elegant glass.
It is better than nothing, he thought.
But actually nothing is better than fake.
Eyes are easy to fool, though taste buds not so much. Wine lacks the metallic tinge; it's too watery and too sweet. It works only as long as you look but do not touch.
It's the same with people, but harder.
Prompt: Cioccolateria Dieta
Title: Chocolate makes everything better
“Everything can be solved with chocolate, my dear,” Uncle Dimitri places the biggest mug of his collection – a white monstrosity with wings for handles and I'm Heaven on Earth written in golden glittery letters – in front of Langley. Then he sits on a chair next to him, his hands in his lap.
Angels: always weirdly too close and yet comforting at the same time.
“For being an angel, you're extraordinarily lacking in wise solutions,” Langley mutters. He's five and already very articulate, a characteristic undermined by his fangs popping out randomly for no reason at all. Like now, for example. They're tiny and pointy, sticking out from his pouty mouth.
He was in a fight -- they called him animal, he bit them, the usual stuff -- how can chocolate solve anything, unless he pours it hot on those kids?
“I'm not supposed to give you solutions,” Dimitri explains softly, his voice an incredibly modulate string of celestial notes, of which he's undoubtedly very proud. "I can only put you on the right path to find it.”
“So, what good are you?”
That's when his uncle coos like an outraged pigeon and disappears, taking the chocolate too.
Prompt: Cucina con Ale Ristorante
Title: Cooking together
Uncle Dimitri's kitchen is a sparkling white nightmare coming straight out a design magazine and never really used as he usually conjures food from thin air. He loves a clean-cut, almost antiseptic aesthetic, better if suffused by a soft, warm light. An occupational hazard, maybe. Or homesickness.
Langley imagines heaven like a place where some trucks transporting cotton balls and some more trucks transporting marshmallows have overturned, mixing their cargoes together, but with more lounge-like lights and church choirs being aired 24/7. Not exactly his vibe, but he can understand why his uncle would try to recreate it on earth.
Anyway, he's very grateful because Dimitri is willing to sacrifice his kitchen to the inevitably messy altar of homemade cookies in order to give Langley a chance with an heavenly creature currently enrolled in his history class. It's a great demonstration of love.
“Excuse my confusion, nephew, but aren't you going to a school of magic on Titania?” Dimitri asks, tying an apron around his waist.”
“That's correct,” Langley nods, counting the eggs to make sure they are the right number. He's a tall and lanky teenager these days. All sharps angles and awkward limbs.
“So why am I paying for it and you're not using magic to make cookies?”
“It'd be too easy,” Langley chuckles, but he uses a bit of magic to keep the recipe book open and floating between them. “I want to surprise her with something I made with my own two hands, so she'll know I'm good with them.”
“Let's not get into details,” Dimitri clears his throat. “So, two eggs and three cups of flour.”
He grabs the eggs and puts them in the flour, shell and all, then he starts mixing.
Langley sighs. Not the surprise he was going for, but it'll do.
Prompt: Da Buddy Pasticceria
Title: Baking is love made edible
“Normal people sleep or smoke after sex,” Shannen says, unable or unwilling – it's always impossible to say which is which with him – to keep disgust out of his voice. “They don't eat an entire tray of pastries.”
“I sleep, mostly,” Langley agrees, popping one chocolate pastry in his mouth after the other. “The flame of my love always burns so fervently—“
“Meaning you're always horny.”
“—that once it's over I'm spent and I need to recharge for the second round.”
“Which you can forget. I'm good.”
“But sometimes I'm also hungry,” Langley concludes while the pile of pastries in front of him hasn't even started to dwindle. “But I don't blame you for not knowing this about me. You still don't know me well, my fair-looking, but fierce glacial lily.”
“And I don't plan on knowing you better,” Shannen comments. “Where do they even come from?”
“Conjured from a pastry shop in Aimatopolis,” Langley answers, munching on a pistachio-filled pastry. “Not the most refined of places, but definitely one of the best. Wanna try the hazelnut cream one?”
“Not even licking the filling from my navel?”
Langley smiles. Shannen is stubborn, but he'll come around.
Prompt: Lo Zozzone Ristorante
Title: Sex is dirty only if it's done right
Dirty has never been a word he used to describe sex.
Not his first time – a messy and awkward affair, involving too much enthusiasm and definitely too much unwanted fangs, that nearly turned into a tragic headline stating rabid young vampire kills lover in the throes of passion – nor the hundreds times that has come after that has ever looked even remotely dirty to him.
Dirty is an very ugly word and there's absolutely nothing ugly in sex.
He loves everything about it: love, lust, the friction, kissing and licking and putting everything in your mouth, stroking and spanking, fingers in warm and tight places, doing things to people you like, having those things done to you by those same people or maybe other people. Two lovers or three or four or just one. Boys and girls and everything in between. Anything's fair and anything goes for him.
“Shit, you're disgusting,” Shannen is so tired that he can't even move away from him as he usually does. He just brings his arm over his eyes so he doesn't have to look while Langley he licks off his own cum from his thigh
Langley chuckles. “You, instead, are not.”
Prompt: Bowling Il Birillo
Title: Brand New and Amazing
“You should stop looking at it,” Celes informs him. He covered his face with his hands when he understood what Langley wanted to do, but he's been looking through his fingers since then.
“Why? It wasn't there yesterday,” Langley smiles, the tip of his fangs showing under his lips. “I'm in awe, my love. Despite my extensive knowledge of magic, I didn't know these things could grow like aubergines!”
Celes squeaks and tries to close his legs, but Langley's grip is never as strong as when he wants to keep his legs parted. “First, you know very well it didn't just grow overnight, I made it!” Celes points out, with that tip of pride that Langley was aiming for. “Besides, what's there to be in awe? You have one just like it.”
“Oh no, my little drop of sunshine, this one is very different.”
Celes frowns. Langley can sense, if not see, the lines of his beautiful face tense. “Right, because it's not real,” he mutters, bitterly.
Langley chuckles and then leans forward, leaving the gentlest of kisses on top of Celes' brand new cock. “No, silly cupcake, because it's yours,” he says. “And I've never seen something more beautiful.”
Prompt: Bowling Le Palle
Title: Entangled situations
It all happens very fast and in a very confusing way, like every time one of them gets suddenly too horny to plan things properly. Especially when it's Shannen, whose libido is not a kettle that gradually gets warm enough to boil water – like Celes' – or a fireplace, constantly burning at the same temperature – like Langley's – it's more like a bomb: one moment everything is fine and the moment after three people are lying on the ground panting and unable to move.
Whatever triggered Shannen, it leads them to furious undressing and messy kissing, and to a lot of frustrated complaining when they try to find a way to be all in each other's body at the same time. Langley gets a foot in his mouth and a very pointy elbow in his ribs before Shannen forces him down on the bed and pushes Celes on his face.
Celes' brand new cock slides easily on his tongue a second after and Langley starts sucking at it diligently, enjoying the unusual sight of his boyfriend from below, as he moans softly and sort of try to strangle him with his erection. But that's okay, Langley can handle it. He's been sucking cocks for a while now.
It gets harder when Shannen start thrusting, though.
Celes' cock slips out of his mouth and starts bouncing on Langley's cheek. After trying to regain control of it a few times and failing, Langley just gives up and lets it. This is his life now, and it's not even half bad.
Langley has found himself in other entangled situations, but none of them was pleasant like this one.
As one blessed hand finds its way between his legs and gives him some release, Langley focuses all his attention on Celes' testicles, which are equally brand new and certainly haven't received the attention they deserve yet. The moment he touches the tip of his tongue to the wrinkled skin, Celes folds over and lets out a panicked scream. "Langley no! They're still too sensible!"
But every Langley no! is always followed by a Langley yes! (It's the natural order of things) and so he dives in and suck them in his mouth.
Prompt: Cinema Ficci
Title: Some memories never fade
Langley has no memory of his father, except one.
It's blurred and a bit confused. A set of images that come to him in flashes, together with the scent of cologne and, underneath it, the stronger one of motor oil and leather, a throaty, manly laugh, and a feeling of impending doom. Not the most comforting thought, this last one, for a ten year old, but he holds on to it because it's the only one he has.
They are in Aimatopolis, but not the one Langley knows.
It's the city lacerated by a gang war the seer brought forth, quiet like a cemetery – whenever people aren't fighting – and filled with bodies like one.
It's night in his memory – Langley pushes his tongue against the tip of his fangs – and he recently found out why. Unlike him, his father can't walk under the Sun. They're inside the skeleton of a destroyed cinema that had been a theater before that. They're sitting on two seats in what's left of the gallery. He can see the big screen a few feet below and the sky above, because the ceiling is gone.
It's not a bad place. It feels peaceful, but it's sad.
He says it aloud. That's why his father laughs. He also says something, but Langley can't remember what it was, or maybe he just never heard the words.
“Do you think he's ever coming back?” He asks, while he gets in the bed.
Uncle Dimitri draws the curtains and puts away some of his toys. He never wants to talk about Langley's father, but this time he sits down on the bed and sighs, combing Langley's unruly curls back. “Sometimes it's almost like he never left, love.”
He looks sad, so Langley doesn't ask anything more.
Prompt: Brian & Matt Strumenti Musicali
Title: Music speaks when words can't
For the first time in forever – which is not, yet, but it might become a very long time for him if he really is at least a little bit immortal – Langley is speechless, his seemingly bottomless reservoir of three syllable words is as dried up as his mouth feels right now.
And Celes next to him is not helping at all, too shocked to form words with a mouth that fell open two minutes ago and doesn't seem to be closing anytime soon.
None of them knew there was a piano buried under a pile of millennial dust in one of the forgotten rooms in the back of the Summer Palace – not even Celes, which is a very shameful thing since this is his home after all.
At least two of them didn't know Shannen could play it.
Celes and Langley woke up in a bed suddenly too big for just the two of them and they followed the melody through the corridors and down the stairs until they got to this room and found Shannen sitting in front of the instrument.
Langley opens his mouth to express his undying love for this marvelous creature, so closed up to the world and yet so full of surprises, but Celes places his hand over his mouth to stop him. They wait until the song ends.
“I know you are there,” Shannen sighs. “Don't just stand there lurking, you're ridiculous.”
“We didn't know you could play,” Langley says.
“I didn't tell you.”
“It's a beautiful song,” Celes smiles. “I had never heard it before.”
“It was my mother's favorite.” Shannen says it like it means nothing, but his fingers brush over the keys again, trembling.
“Why don't you teach me something?” Langley smirks, flexing his long fingers. “I have perfect piano hands.”
“I'd rather kill myself by carving my own heart out with a teaspoon.”
“Unnecessarily graphic, but I appreciate the effort,” Langley says. “You can bonk me on the head whenever I make a mistake.”
Shannen seems to think about it and then he scoots over with a smirk. “Please, sit down.”
Langley takes place next to him as Celes climbs on the piano.
Shannen never says aloud what he feels.
It doesn't matter, they understand him anyway.
Prompt: Le Figure Libreria
Title: A Gift
Every night before bed, uncle Dimitri goes around the house picking up all the toys Langley scattered around during the day – he likes to use the whole two-bedroom apartment as a stage to play out his overly complicated scenarios. He feels like his creativity is at its best when it's got wide spaces to roam freely – and puts them back in a basket in Langley's room.
During this procedure Langley is supposed to be putting on his pajamas and brushing his teeth, but he hardly ever does both things, or any. Tonight he managed to put on his pajama pants and then he got distracted by something shining on his bookcase.
When they moved into the apartment, Langley got the bigger bedroom – mostly because uncle Dimitri hardly ever sleeps or does anything any normal human would do, because he's not human – and so there's a lot of room in it. His uncle managed to fit in there a double bed, a tiny desk, tons of toys and a bookcase that he filled with as many books as he could find because, his words, reading make you smart.
Langley can't read yet – so he's not very smart – but he likes when uncle Dimitri reads for him and he loves to look at picture books by himself. He's got a lot of them, and since he's always looking at them, he could recognize them all just by the color of their spines. The big golden book was not there yesterday.
He forgets the rest of his pajamas and goes to investigate.
The book is new. The pages are lucid and the colors bright, it smells as if it came straight out of a bookshop, but he's pretty sure his uncle hasn't bought him any book recently. He takes it with him on the bed and he starts flipping through the pages.
Surprisingly enough, this is no story of princes fighting dragons or of animals doing random things – he's got a book where they poo – it's a story about him. Well, someone like him. A little boy with black curls and tiny little fangs in a world where nobody else has them.
“Why are you not in your pajamas yet?” Uncle Dimitri asks, entering the room, his hands on his hips.
Langley doesn't respond. He's too busy turning page after page, following the little boy in his adventures. He bites – like he does sometimes – and he's very agile and very good with magic. He can even hang upside down!
“What do you have there?” Uncle Dimitri asks, taking the book from him.
“It's a book,” Langley says, very wisely.
Uncle Dimitri examines it carefully for a moment and then frowns. “Who gave you this book, Langley?”
Langley takes his book back and shrugs. “It was in my bookcase.”
On the last page, the one that's completely white, the book is signed with a flourishing dotted “M”.
It's a pity Langley can't read yet.
Prompt: Giralamoda Sartoria
Title: Tailored Happiness
“Are you sure this is a good idea, Lang?” Celes asks, standing on the little pedestal in front of the mirror. It has been a while since Langley has seen him so insecure.
“I don't remember ever having bad ideas,” Langley smiles.
Shannen – who has been dragged here against his will – scoffs. “Please, I could start listing all your bad ideas now and still be going on tomorrow. You're made of bad ideas.” Then, surprisingly, he adds, “But this one might not be, Cee.”
“Be still my heart,” Langley places a hand on his chest. “He agrees with me, I'll have a heart attack!”
“That'd be great,” Shannen comments dryly, before turning to Celes again. “Your stupid royal dressmaker has procedures to follow and traditions to honor, and also he's stupid. This tailor doesn't know any of Tanit's rules, so he might actually listen to you.”
Celes needs a new outfit, but it's hard for him to look in a mirror and like himself these days. His bottom half is not there yet and the top half still has to go, nothing – to his eyes – fits him as it should. And the dressmaker in Tanit presented him with a dress.
There has been screaming. And magic. And now there's a dressmaker frog at the palace.
The Aimatopolis tailor walks into the room, with tiny quick steps. He can't be taller than 5” and his features are all concentrated in the center of his face. He looks Celes up and down twice. He measures his legs and arms. They all hold their breath.
“The boy'll need a pair of proper pants and a loose shirt.” He smiles. “We'll hide the bits you don't like, you just have to tell me which ones.”
And Celes smiles, finally happy.
Prompt: Curt & Blein Officina
Title: Dad's Legacy
It looks like a nondescript workshop, but Langley instantly spots the telltale sign of his father's connection to this place. There's a small red tag on the entrance wall, a man with a raised sword: the symbol of the Blood Devils, Miguel's gang.
“Over here,” Dimitri gestures him, leading the way.
There's a man working on a car, but he stops the moment they come in. He looks about thirty, brown skin, a stylized wing tattooed around his left eye. He walks towards them sporting a dangerous frown, but his lips open in a beautiful smile the moment he gets closer.
“Look what the cat dragged in! Dimitri, if you came here a little less, we would think you're dead,” the man welcomes his uncle with a firm handshake and a pat on his shoulder. Dimitri looks ridiculously awkward during the whole process. Then, the man turns to Langley and smiles even more. “And you must be Langley. Shit, you don't look like him at all.”
“Silly me coming here fishing for compliments,” Langley smiles.
“Oh, it is a compliment. He would be jealous of you. He was so vain!” The man offers him his hand. “I'm Matias, by the way. I was friend with your dad. I think your uncle brought you here so I could show you something.”
“Exactly,” Dimitri nods. “If you don't mind.”
“I never mind. That beauty doesn't see the light of day enough as it should. Well, it never had, for obvious reasons. But it's not good for it to always stay cooped up in here.”
In the backroom, Matias removes a tarp, revealing a black, sleek motorbike, an old classic in perfect conditions. Langley can't help but brush his fingers along the soft lines of the bodywork. He has seen photos of his father on it. “I didn't know it was still here,” he says.
“Oh, everything is still here, dear,” Dimitri speaks the way he always does, as if everything in the world was worthy of a big resigned sigh. “Him included.”
Langley chuckles. “I meant physically.”
Dimitri looks away. “Er, yeah, well.” He clears his throat and then he too strokes the handlebar, fondly.
Langley often forgets that while he would like to have more memories of his father, Dimitri is haunted by those he has.
“I think he would want you to have it,” Matias nods.
“Oh, but I can't ride a bike.”
“No, no, mijo, I said he would want you to have it, as in take care of it,” Matias corrects him. “He definitely would never want you on it. He was very specific about it. Nobody was to ride it until he was back.”
Dimitri rolls his eyes. “That definitely sounds like him.”
“Just don't ride it,” Matias says. “You never know.”
It's a foolish hope, Langley thinks, but why not hang on to it?
Prompt: Macelleria Chiappa
“I think it's more like a mandolin,” Langley muses, lying on the mess they made of Celes' bed. It's fortunate that they know a spell to make rooms soundproof or the whole dormitory would be knocking at their door right now. There was moaning.
“And I think you're an idiot.”
“So it must be Friday then,” Celes comes out the bathroom, rubbing his hair with a towel. “What are you arguing about?”
“Nothing,” Shannen takes a sip of water from his bottle on the nightstand. It's always like a marathon whenever they get together. They have a tiny supply of bottled water on one side and snacks on the other.
“Your butt,” Langley says, having no filter between brain and mouth.
Celes turns around so fast that the towel around his hips slips and he needs to grab it quickly before it can fall down completely. “What?”
“I was wondering how we could describe its shape. To me it's more like a mandolin, Shannen says it's a peach.”
“I never said anything like that.”
“Alright, he said the simile should be fruity,” Langley corrects himself.
“No, I said that usually people say that asses are like peaches,” Shannen grumbles. “Why do you always hear only what you want to hear?”
“Because I like to hear beautiful things.”
“Are you saying my ass is not a peach?” Celes asks, smirking.
“I didn't mean that,” Shannen frowns.
“I think we should judge from up close,” Langley nods as he reaches out, opening and closing his fingers. “Come here and let the experts decide!”
He thinks Celes will flip him off. Instead, he chuckles and bend overs, offering them his ass. "Mandolin or peach the verdict better be that it's the best ass in the polyverse."
Langley would never disagree with the seer.
Prompt: Macelleria Chiappa
Title: Unexpected bites
Langley doesn't know how it happened.
At this point in his life – after more than twenty years of dealing with it – he was sure he could control both his impulses and his teeth quite well. He's not the little kid that would bite uncontrollably everything and everyone anymore, nor the lanky teen with fangs popping out every time he was too horny or too hungry.
He's a man – almost a vampire – in perfect control of his body and the needs that come with it.
And yet this regrettable thing happened and, while he feels a little bit ashamed, he also can't stop doing what he's doing.
Celes was lying on his stomach, completely naked and at peace. Both things happen more and more often at the same time now, which is one of Langley greatest achievements. He didn't do everything alone, of course – Shannen helped and, obviously, Celes did most of the job – but he was part of it and he's proud of that.
Langley saw him like that and he couldn't resist. He started kissing every inch of Celes' body – ankle, calf, back of the knee, thigh – savoring it.
They're close to the beach and his skin his always warm and tastes like salt.
Celes was chuckling, Langley was grinning behind the curve of his ass, then his fangs went pop! and Langley bit him. He didn't want to – he wasn't planning to – but it happened. Celes screamed. Then the poison kicked in, so he started moaning.
And now Langley is here, mouth wide open and glued to Celes' ass, unable to move or back away because blood tastes good on his tongue and his brain is barely working. He whimpers both in pleasure and in frustration, which is weird, and also trying to apologize.
“It's okay, Lang, I like it,” Celes reaches back to pat him on his head. “Keep going.”
There's literally nothing else he could do.
Prompt: I meloni di Nonna Giovanna
Title: Missing bits
“Are you sure you're not going to miss them?”
That seems like a very hard question for him to answer – and certainly the answer is very very important to Celes – but it's actually a no-brainer for Langley. “No, I won't.”
“Are you really sure?” Celes insists. “You don't have to say no just because you know I hope you'll say no. You can say yes and I will understand. Or maybe not, I'll get mad, but please don't lie to me, that also makes me mad.”
Langley chuckles and forces Celes to turn around and look at him. “You know I can't lie. It requires remembering a lot of things and I'm too lazy to do that. I really won't miss them.”
“But you like them.”
“I never said I don't,” Langley says softly. “I like them very much but I won't miss them.”
“You're always touching them.”
“Do you want me to stop?”
Celes hesitates. “No. But I don't want you to regret them when they won't be here anymore.”
He leaves a tiny kiss on Celes' forehead. “Can I touch you now?” He asks, gently. Celes nods.
Langley's hands moves slowly up to Celes' waist, his thumbs brushing over his skin. They pull up his shirt enough to reveal the navel and nothing more – his unwanted curves safely hidden – then they dive underneath the flimsy fabric, and move to his back.
Celes' lips part and let out a little moan. Langley welcomes it on his mouth. He kisses him slowly as his hands connect between Celes' shoulder blades and then move up to his shoulders, pulling him closer. “I don't need these boobs to like you,” he whispers softly to his ear. “Even when they are there.”
Celes rests against his chest. “Promise?”
Prompt: Ascisc Smaltimento rifiuti
Title: Persona non grata
The elite guard looks Langley up and down, doing nothing to hide the disgust on his face. It's nothing new, so Langley doesn't get offended. It's all part of the game, isn't it? This guy has been trained to consider him less worthy than a bag of trash, so he's just doing his job by standing there and blocking the way to him.
It's just a little annoying that Langley has been here a thousand times and he still has to go through this.
“I know you might think all vampires look the same,” he says amiably, “but I've literally been here yesterday and one of you let me in. I had lunch with the seer and his mother.”
The guard doesn't speak to him, but the High Priest does.
Lacros is a massive man, just taking one step forward he manages to plunge Langley in his shadow. “The party is over, kid,” his voice is soft but his eyes are ice. "On the orders of the old seer and mine, you're no longer welcomed inside the Summer Palace.”
Langley frowns. “I don't believe that. The seer would never do that!”
“She would and she did,” Lacros says. “And if you know what's best for Celestia, you will leave her alone.”
“It's Celes,” Langley growls. “And I want to speak with him!”
Lacros turns his back to him. “Take this creature away from here,” he orders the guards, “and make sure he doesn't come back.”
Several hands grab his arms and neck, and he wakes up screaming. He sits up and for a moment he doesn't know what's going on or where he is, then slowly the shapes of Celes' room at the Summer Palace become familiar again.
“What's going on? You were screaming,” Celes mutters, confused.
Langley lies down on the bed again and pulls Celes in his arms. He would do the same with Shannen too, but last time he did he got a black eye – the guy defends himself in his sleep – so he'll pass for now. “Just a silly bad dream,” he smiles to his boyfriend. Lacros can be a pain in the ass but he has never treated him like that and Manila is an angel. He's got nothing to fear.
Besides, he's already inside the palace. Good luck throwing him out now.
Prompt: Paola Agenzia Immobiliare
Title: The end of an era
Langley doesn't remember how he came to stay with Dimitri – he only knows he was a tiny bean, not older than a couple of weeks – and Dimitri is all the family he has ever known.
His father Miguel has never been in the picture, at least not physically. Dimitri has made sure Langley knew who he was – or should he say who he is since, apparently, he's not really dead anymore? – talking to him relentlessly, showing him the few pictures he had of him and telling him stories.
About his mother he doesn't know anything, instead. He tried to ask about her a few times, but Dimitri would always say something evasive and then change the subject. Langley came to the conclusion that speaking about his mother was either painful for him – maybe because she had Langley with Miguel? – or because she wasn't a good person. Either way, at some point he just stopped asking. His father was already a cumbersome presence for both of them.
Anyway, it's always been him and Dimitri, all his life.
His first memory of his uncle is him sitting in the office of the real estate agent in Aimatopolis, saying that he's looking for a two-bedroom apartment, possibly with a garden because, you know, the kid. It was their second or third house, Langley's not really sure. They were constantly on the move for a while.
Langley must have been three or four and he was really angry that day because he loved the house they had – even if he doesn't remember it now – and he didn't want to change it. He kept throwing this little bouncing ball and running to catch it way faster than it should have been possible.
He was unnerving the man behind the desk, but he didn't know back then.
“There will be no need for the house anymore,” His uncle is saying now to another real estate agent. “My nephew is about to attend the Magical Academy on Titania and I'm in the process of leaving on a very long journey and I don't know when I'll be back.”
Here, it's done. It's never going to be just the two of them anymore.
It's the end of an era, Langley realizes.
It's sad that it's ending with him still not knowing why it has been this way to begin with.
Prompt: Cinema Ingoio
Title: Blood and...
Celes storms into the room like a very tall, very lean tornado.
Langley turns around ready to welcome him with the nicest words he knows, but Celes shoves him on the bed and straddles him. “Shut up,” he growls before Langley can say a word. He kisses him hard, hungrily, and Langley can't do anything but give in, release control.
He lets Celes lick his lips, part them, force his way in his mouth and explore it, take control of it and conquer it. Celes sets the pace – which is feverish and messy and it doesn't let him breathe – and he demands that he follows.
Langley can't touch him, it's one of those days. Celes didn't tell him, but he can feel it.
It's Celes who touches, who strokes, his fingers slipping underneath Langley's shirt, tearing off one button after the other. He's restless, he scratches and bites.
Celes' tongue pushes against the tip of his fangs. “Let them out,” he whispers.
“I said let them out, Lang.” Celes looks up and his eyes are two dark pits in which magic is swirling, entrancing and dangerous.
His fangs come out with the usual pop and Celes smirks as he climbs off him. “Good boy. Now take out your cock, I wanna see it.”
Celes stares at him intently – his eyes so dark that Langley wants to do anything he asks, so dark that he knows he will love it – and he takes off his shirt, he steps out of his pants. “Don't look,” he says when he sees Langley's eyes move down between his legs. “Ignore it.”
Langley lies down before Celes has to ask. His eyes trained on Celes' thighs as they come close to his face while Celes settles between his legs.
He bites when Celes orders him to, the taste of his sweet blood turning his brain off immediately.
Celes dives between his legs, he takes him into his mouth, he sucks on it like Langley sucks on his thigh. Langley could compose symphonies to the obscene sounds he's making, to the way he moans around his shaft, to the sweet harmony of his frustrated whimpers and of his angry grunts.
He's definitely drinking too much, but he doesn't care. He could get drunk on blood, and it'd be okay. He could get lost slipping in and out of Celes' mouth, and that would be fine too. He could die here and he would be content. What more could he possibly want that is not here in his hands and on his lips right now?
He doesn't remember ever coming so hard.
Celes tears his thigh away from him, some blood spills along his leg. He looks at Langley and his mouth is still full, he grins again. They swallow together – blood and cum – a mirrored gesture that makes them both laugh before they kiss. He can taste himself, can Celes do that too?
“Are you feeling better now?” Langley asks.
Celes shakes his head.
They've clearly just started.