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lady_mabWell, you know, everyone was talking about rumors spreading around the last University of Ephrim being a vampire so, like, what else was I supposed to do with this prompt? (EMOJI WAS NOT ME THE PERSON WHO REQUESTED IT ADDED THE EMOJI)
Ephrim steps into the room and notices the back of Throndir’s head peeking above the couch. He has one arm thrown over his eyes, though doesn’t seem to be sleeping as his hand twitches at the sound of the closing door.
Ephrim still tries to move quietly, unfastening his cloak and draping it over one of the chairs to let it dry from the snow.
“How is it out there?” Throndir asks, his voice blurry with the remains of sleep. Perhaps he had just woken up from a restless nap before Ephrim entered.
“Cold,” Ephrim replies, leaving his gloves on and shaking out the damp from his hair as best he can. “And you know, I heard the most curious rumor while I was out.”
“Hmm?”
Ephrim moves to stand directly before him, their knees pressing together, and waits with his arms crossed over his chest until Throndir finally peeks up at him from beneath an arm. “There is a rumor going around the University that there is a vampire roaming the campus.”
Throndir’s arm drops away completely and he sits bolt upright. “Ephrim, I-- you gotta know it isn’t-- I would never--”
“You see, it’s the strangest thing,” Ephrim continues, as if Throndir hasn’t even spoken up. He fusses idly with the fingers of his gloves, finding a loose thread and worrying at it instead, as if this is boring news to him. “I can’t quite trace back to how they started, but Highwater brought it to my attention, as she thought it pertinent that I know.”
The weak protests stop, and everything about Throndir is perfectly still. Prey, caught in the hunter’s trap. “Ephrim,” he tries again, voice low, urgent.
Ephrim sighs, probably a bit too dramatically if the confusion that flickers across Throndir’s brow is any indication. But he can’t keep up this act for too long--the guilt and fear crossing Throndir’s face in rapid succession makes the novelty of teasing him wear off very quickly.
So instead, he climbs onto the couch--into Throndir’s lap, knees straddling him, hand going to the cushion behind his head. “No, don’t worry, it’s not your name she brought me.”
Throndir’s eyes go wide, and confusion settles in, as his hands go to Ephrim’s hips out of instinct. “Whose, then…?”
“The rumor is that I’m the vampire,” Ephrim says, bring his idle attention to the buttons at the top of Throndir’s collar.
“You?!”
“Yes. Apparently my mysterious aura has incited several of the more fantastically inclined to start guessing as to what might be wrong with me.”
Throndir’s gaze flickers down to Ephrim’s hand, where his gloved fingers still work at slowly undoing the buttons. “But you’re not.”
“I’m not.”
“I’m confused.”
“Would you rather we set the record straight? Tell everyone that you’re a vampire and I killed a god?” The words come out more bitter than he intended, so he steadies himself by placing the palms of his hands flat against Throndir’s chest.
Throndir’s hand is warm when it closes around his wrist, the pad of his thumb tracing down over Ephrim’s pulse. “No.”
Ephrim manages a smile, though he can’t help the slight devious curl to his lips when his eyes finally meet Throndir’s. “Then let’s play along, shall we?”
He doesn’t even give Throndir a chance to respond before he leans in and presses his lips to the curve of Throndir’s throat. He grins through the kiss as he feels Throndir jolt in surprise beneath him, and his breath leave his lungs on a shaky exhale.
Ephrim teases the lines of Throndir’s neck with his teeth, biting the tender spot over a vein before smoothing it over with a kiss. He does it again and again--sometimes hard enough to draw a soft noise, sometimes barely the faintest brush.
“You’re just going to encourage them,” Throndir manages, though he doesn’t protest, tilting his head back further to expose more skin, and Ephrim gladly takes the invitation.
“So? Let them think what they want when they see these marks,” he teases, and he enjoys the rumble of Throndir’s laugh beneath his lips.
Ephrim steps into the room and notices the back of Throndir’s head peeking above the couch. He has one arm thrown over his eyes, though doesn’t seem to be sleeping as his hand twitches at the sound of the closing door.
Ephrim still tries to move quietly, unfastening his cloak and draping it over one of the chairs to let it dry from the snow.
“How is it out there?” Throndir asks, his voice blurry with the remains of sleep. Perhaps he had just woken up from a restless nap before Ephrim entered.
“Cold,” Ephrim replies, leaving his gloves on and shaking out the damp from his hair as best he can. “And you know, I heard the most curious rumor while I was out.”
“Hmm?”
Ephrim moves to stand directly before him, their knees pressing together, and waits with his arms crossed over his chest until Throndir finally peeks up at him from beneath an arm. “There is a rumor going around the University that there is a vampire roaming the campus.”
Throndir’s arm drops away completely and he sits bolt upright. “Ephrim, I-- you gotta know it isn’t-- I would never--”
“You see, it’s the strangest thing,” Ephrim continues, as if Throndir hasn’t even spoken up. He fusses idly with the fingers of his gloves, finding a loose thread and worrying at it instead, as if this is boring news to him. “I can’t quite trace back to how they started, but Highwater brought it to my attention, as she thought it pertinent that I know.”
The weak protests stop, and everything about Throndir is perfectly still. Prey, caught in the hunter’s trap. “Ephrim,” he tries again, voice low, urgent.
Ephrim sighs, probably a bit too dramatically if the confusion that flickers across Throndir’s brow is any indication. But he can’t keep up this act for too long--the guilt and fear crossing Throndir’s face in rapid succession makes the novelty of teasing him wear off very quickly.
So instead, he climbs onto the couch--into Throndir’s lap, knees straddling him, hand going to the cushion behind his head. “No, don’t worry, it’s not your name she brought me.”
Throndir’s eyes go wide, and confusion settles in, as his hands go to Ephrim’s hips out of instinct. “Whose, then…?”
“The rumor is that I’m the vampire,” Ephrim says, bring his idle attention to the buttons at the top of Throndir’s collar.
“You?!”
“Yes. Apparently my mysterious aura has incited several of the more fantastically inclined to start guessing as to what might be wrong with me.”
Throndir’s gaze flickers down to Ephrim’s hand, where his gloved fingers still work at slowly undoing the buttons. “But you’re not.”
“I’m not.”
“I’m confused.”
“Would you rather we set the record straight? Tell everyone that you’re a vampire and I killed a god?” The words come out more bitter than he intended, so he steadies himself by placing the palms of his hands flat against Throndir’s chest.
Throndir’s hand is warm when it closes around his wrist, the pad of his thumb tracing down over Ephrim’s pulse. “No.”
Ephrim manages a smile, though he can’t help the slight devious curl to his lips when his eyes finally meet Throndir’s. “Then let’s play along, shall we?”
He doesn’t even give Throndir a chance to respond before he leans in and presses his lips to the curve of Throndir’s throat. He grins through the kiss as he feels Throndir jolt in surprise beneath him, and his breath leave his lungs on a shaky exhale.
Ephrim teases the lines of Throndir’s neck with his teeth, biting the tender spot over a vein before smoothing it over with a kiss. He does it again and again--sometimes hard enough to draw a soft noise, sometimes barely the faintest brush.
“You’re just going to encourage them,” Throndir manages, though he doesn’t protest, tilting his head back further to expose more skin, and Ephrim gladly takes the invitation.
“So? Let them think what they want when they see these marks,” he teases, and he enjoys the rumble of Throndir’s laugh beneath his lips.
