Smirking a little, he watches Georg prepare...and then shuts his eyes to focus.
"Tch-tch-tch. Tch-tch-tch." He makes a clicking sound with his tongue, an idle thing - maybe a little peculiar, but not so out of the way for a man thinking. What Georg won't know is that the sounds bounce, echo, mapping the room, the space between them, the position of his body.
Before even opening his eyes, he holds up his own fingers in a perfect mirror of what Georg is doing.
Georg laughs in surprise, looking positively delighted. "That's an incredible trick! Not only a musician, but a magician as well. You'll have to do that one for my son, tomorrow. He'll adore it.
Tell me you'll stay on a few days. You must. I'm certain we can find a few odd jobs around the house for you to do, if you'd like, but you're more than welcome to simply stay as my guest."
"Of course, of course. However could I turn you down, Georg? You've been nothing but lovely so far."
The lies come so, so easily, practiced on his tongue. He takes his teacup back up, sipping from it, letting a tiny shuddering sigh out into the blood inside. With his eyes shut, focusing, he could also hear the other man's heartbeat. The blood pumping.
The rabbit blood really isn't enough anymore. He's STARVING. But he must be patient, play the game carefully.
"I haven't quite decided where to go next, anyhow. That's the trouble with not settling down, isn't it?"
"I can't imagine it," Georg admits, leaning back in his chair again, resting his chin against his hand as he watches his guest. A striking young man, really. But... those days are behind him. He has settled down, and his mind shouldn't wander at the sight of handsome men any longer.
"I grew up in this castle. I traveled to Germany for school, which is where I met Adela, but we came home and were married not long after I graduated. I've never really felt that urge to explore. That... wanderlust. Perhaps to my detriment."
...Ah. Kronid may look young, but he's been around for long enough to know that look in Georg's eyes. Looking at him that way.
It's helpful, when the inclination is already there. This really is like taking candy from a baby. (Or a father from a child, some long-buried part of him hisses from the dark corners of his dusty heart.) With calculated motions, he opens his posture a little bit. Letting Georg look a little better.
His fingers start to drum a little pattern on his teacup, bright eyes meeting his host's. He seems...susceptible. Time to start by planting the seed. Less a Siren's song, more the stoking of more youthful embers. It's actually a pity he's so hungry. This fellow isn't unattractive in his own right.
"Well, you may tell yourself so, but - and you'll forgive me for saying so - we all feel those...urges. The lust for novelty. It's just that some are better at resisting than others, hm? And just as well. Roustabouts like me, broken from our humble little shackles, would be ever so lost without sturdy men like you."
"Sturdy!" He turns his head to half-hide a laugh. There's been a shift in the tone of the conversation, he feels, and he's not certain quite what to do with it. What to do with himself, in this situation.
He ought to do precisely nothing. Let Kronid go to his room, and Georg retire to his own. But... there's no harm in talking, is there?
"I'm not quite sure I'd ever use that word to describe myself. May I ask where all you've traveled? I'm sure you have marvelous stories."
"Stable, I mean. Like your stone castle. Strong and steady, seeing strangers through storms." Alliteration is an easy trick for hypnosis. Less obvious than breaking into song, but a good way to tug the snare just a little bit tighter. He makes a show of licking his lips to moisten them, looking away a moment in apparent thought.
"Oh, all over the place. I've been to Germany, of course - France, Russia, Egypt, and further. I've seen quite a lot of the good and bad the world has to offer."
"Of course," he says, swallowing hard and doing his best not to so openly stare at Kronid as he wets his lips. He feels a little lightheaded, and passes his fingers through his hair. Loose, for once, and down around his shoulders. He prefers to keep it tied back during the day, but he lets it down before bed. Sometimes, Adela brushes it for him, which is terribly relaxing.
Adela -- yes. That's where his mind should stay. Not on passing handsome strangers.
"I'm certain you have. I hope that I can be one of the good things, in that case." Well that didn't come out quite how he meant it to. But now it's said and he can't unsay it.
Yes, there it is. The subtle shift in his heartbeat, the way he starts to move, nervously, self-distraction. Starting to get a little flustered, maybe, trying to talk himself out of looking.
"Oh," he purrs into his teacup as he finishes the blood inside, "You already are, Georg." The cup is set down and his long nails find the arm of his chair. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Incessant for all it is soft. Almost the rhythm of a heartbeat.
"And I'm sure you're full of surprises. Most men are. Even sweet things like you." A pause, and then some mock bashfulness. "Ah, listen to me, I have been on the road for too long, haven't I? Please forgive my indiscretion, you have been nothing but kind and here I am, looking at your pretty face like a wolf at a sheep."
"Ah, no, it's -- " Georg blushes, feeling the back of his neck heat. His heart feels as though it's pounding in his chest, hammering against his ribs. Like he can hear his heartbeat, almost.
But -- no. It's simply Kronid's long, elegant fingers tapping against the arm of his chair. And he finds himself staring at Kronid's hand for a long moment before he forces himself to look back at his face again. "It's late. We're likely both tired. I'm sure you must be, for all you've been traveling today.
When Georg pulls his gaze up, the face that meets his eyes is pulled into a sly smile, just shy of showing teeth. It's all Kronid can do not to show his fangs, the urge to let them drop nearly unbearable at the sound of the human's blood rushing, hot in his veins.
But he knows his prey is caught, now. Especially with those words, and the promise they carry.
"Of course. I have kept you up for far too long," he purrs, standing, stretching languidly and carelessly as he does.
"I'm more than certain you must wish to find your way into bed by now."
He has to turn his head away when Kronid stretches, so as not to stare at that long, lean body. God, he has to stop looking. He hasn't been with a man since before he met his wife, and of course his thoughts do wander from time to time, but it's never been quite this bad. Quite this... tempting.
Georg brushes a hand through his hair again as he stands, picking up the candelabra from the table to light their way along the dark hallways of the castle.
"It's no trouble. I'm a bit of a night bird, as it is. I often stay up nights, lost in a book or wandering the halls like some spectre."
Now that they are standing, Kronid isn't tapping his fingers on the chair anymore - but they're carrying a conversation, and he doesn't want to ensnare any errant servants with a song while they make their way through the halls.
So instead he tugs his necklace out from under his collar - a little row of coins from different countries, all with holes drilled through - fiddling with them in an idle motion. Clink. Clink. Clink. He's done this enough times to have it down, know how to play different circumstances.
He would need a sound to focus on, anyway. That hammering heartbeat is enticing, and his eyes periodically flick to Georg's pulse point in his throat.
"Ah, you too? I travel by nights. Less people on the roads. I've grown...accustomed to the dark."
Most of the candles in the hallway are out, at this time of night, leaving Georg as the only source of light as they make their way to the guest room. The slow clinking of Kronid's necklace reminds him of the way his fingers looked against the arm of the chair and Georg lets out a shaky breath.
Everything about the man draws him in. He's enticing. Intoxicating. The scent and sound of him makes it almost hard to breath and Georg leans against the door for a moment before turning to face him with a smile. "And this will be your room for the evening."
Georg's guest, of course, can see perfectly in the pitch dark...but the human doesn't need to know that, and so Kronid hovers just a little too close behind as they walk, like a moth drawn to the candlelight. More than close enough to hear the way Georg is breathing, for certain.
It isn't going to take much to get him into the room, he knows that much.
Smiling, he reaches out to rest a cold hand upon his forearm, stroking just an inch or so downward.
"I really can't thank you enough, Georg. This is nicer than anywhere I have slept...perhaps ever."
Just say goodnight and leave, just say goodnight and leave. The smile stays on his face, through sheer force of will, though he does glance down to watch Kronid's fingers stroke over his arm. The touch makes him shiver, faintly. A shudder creeping its way down his spine as he does his best not to sway closer to the man in front of him.
"It's entirely my pleasure. I'm happy to have you as my guest."
Kronid is shorter than Georg, for all his presence...so it's through his eyelashes that he looks up as he draws just a little closer, his voice a low, alluring purr.
"...I assure you, the pleasure is all mine."
He wets his lips a little, expression shifting to something...dark, mysterious.
And then, as quickly as he started, he pulls back, sliding his hand just past Georg's waist to the doorknob, pushing the door open.
Georg lets out a low, breathless noise. Like he's been punched, instead of simply having Kronid's hand against his waist briefly.
He rests his hand against Kronid's chest, lingering for a moment before he tries to move past him. "I'll... leave you to your rest. Have a good evening."
When Georg's hand lands against his chest, he lets out a low, rumbling hum - purposefully, so that the vibration buzzes against the man's palm. His hands move to slide the borrowed robe from his shoulders, giving it back, smelling of him, of soil, of something coppery, of tobacco and woods.
"...Good evening, Georg," he nearly whispers...and then pushes into the room, walking over towards the bed. Without even waiting for the door to shut, he starts to pull his shirt off...and he sings. Softly, in very old Romanian, but clearly, pushing his voice out, out to his prey.
That feeling again. That... light headedness. A sort of separation from himself. He closes his eyes and tries to take a breath to steady himself, but everything is wrapped up in Kronid's scent. His soft, melodious singing.
He steps back into the room and sets the candelabra down, closing the door behind him. "Let me..." he starts to say, but the thought gets lost somewhere.
Kronid turns towards Georg as he enters, raising his voice a little when the door shuts. His body is lean, even scrawny - but there's something almost snakelike in the way he moves, taking a step forward, unblinking.
"...Only the night can save your soul...."
Pulling him in, relentlessly now. The hammer of his heart is ringing in Kronid's ears, unbearable. He's salivating, fighting the slow drop of his fangs back as long as he can.
The firelight flickers off of Kronid's pale skin and Georg lets out a small noise at the sight of him. Pained and pitifuly, even as he moves forward towards him, fists clenching at his sides. He reaches out to trail his fingers over Kronid's chest, lips parted slightly.
"I can't," he whispers, stepping into Kronid's space. Gaze falling to his lips. "I shouldn't."
Well-practiced hands move out and up to the other man's shoulders as a warm hand meets his cold chest...preparing just in case Georg notices there is no heartbeat beneath that cold skin. One hand slithers across his collarbone to the collar of his nightshirt, long nails nimbly unfastening one button, then another.
Not long now. The protestations fall uselessly on the vampire. He knows Georg is already lost.
"...Free the longing...from all its chains...."
He closes more distance between them, leaving his lips only an inch or two away from Georg's. Tempting him, beguiling him. INVITING him.
He hates himself for this... this weakness. For giving in to his baser side like this. He cups his hand over Kronid's jaw, exhaling a shuddering breath as he crushes their mouths together. He wraps his arm around the other man's waist to haul him close, sighing in relief at the feeling of their bodies so close together.
Perhaps, just for one night, he can allow himself this.
Kronid hums low in his throat as he is kissed, nearly purring at the feeling of his cold body pressed against such warmth. He reciprocates the kiss, hungrily, pulling at Georg's shirt now, tugging it clear of his neck, his shoulders.
He pushes his body up against the larger man's, thigh firmly between his legs, pushing him steadily towards the bed.
If Georg finds even a moment of lucidity, he might notice something strange about the kiss...the coppery taste from what had been in the teacup on the stranger's tongue, the point of fangs hidden behind those tight-lipped smiles.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
"Tch-tch-tch. Tch-tch-tch." He makes a clicking sound with his tongue, an idle thing - maybe a little peculiar, but not so out of the way for a man thinking. What Georg won't know is that the sounds bounce, echo, mapping the room, the space between them, the position of his body.
Before even opening his eyes, he holds up his own fingers in a perfect mirror of what Georg is doing.
"...Easy."
no subject
Tell me you'll stay on a few days. You must. I'm certain we can find a few odd jobs around the house for you to do, if you'd like, but you're more than welcome to simply stay as my guest."
no subject
The lies come so, so easily, practiced on his tongue. He takes his teacup back up, sipping from it, letting a tiny shuddering sigh out into the blood inside. With his eyes shut, focusing, he could also hear the other man's heartbeat. The blood pumping.
The rabbit blood really isn't enough anymore. He's STARVING. But he must be patient, play the game carefully.
"I haven't quite decided where to go next, anyhow. That's the trouble with not settling down, isn't it?"
no subject
"I grew up in this castle. I traveled to Germany for school, which is where I met Adela, but we came home and were married not long after I graduated. I've never really felt that urge to explore. That... wanderlust. Perhaps to my detriment."
no subject
It's helpful, when the inclination is already there. This really is like taking candy from a baby. (Or a father from a child, some long-buried part of him hisses from the dark corners of his dusty heart.) With calculated motions, he opens his posture a little bit. Letting Georg look a little better.
His fingers start to drum a little pattern on his teacup, bright eyes meeting his host's. He seems...susceptible. Time to start by planting the seed. Less a Siren's song, more the stoking of more youthful embers. It's actually a pity he's so hungry. This fellow isn't unattractive in his own right.
"Well, you may tell yourself so, but - and you'll forgive me for saying so - we all feel those...urges. The lust for novelty. It's just that some are better at resisting than others, hm? And just as well. Roustabouts like me, broken from our humble little shackles, would be ever so lost without sturdy men like you."
no subject
He ought to do precisely nothing. Let Kronid go to his room, and Georg retire to his own. But... there's no harm in talking, is there?
"I'm not quite sure I'd ever use that word to describe myself. May I ask where all you've traveled? I'm sure you have marvelous stories."
no subject
Cute.
"Stable, I mean. Like your stone castle. Strong and steady, seeing strangers through storms." Alliteration is an easy trick for hypnosis. Less obvious than breaking into song, but a good way to tug the snare just a little bit tighter. He makes a show of licking his lips to moisten them, looking away a moment in apparent thought.
"Oh, all over the place. I've been to Germany, of course - France, Russia, Egypt, and further. I've seen quite a lot of the good and bad the world has to offer."
no subject
Adela -- yes. That's where his mind should stay. Not on passing handsome strangers.
"I'm certain you have. I hope that I can be one of the good things, in that case." Well that didn't come out quite how he meant it to. But now it's said and he can't unsay it.
no subject
"Oh," he purrs into his teacup as he finishes the blood inside, "You already are, Georg." The cup is set down and his long nails find the arm of his chair. Tap tap tap. Tap tap tap. Incessant for all it is soft. Almost the rhythm of a heartbeat.
"And I'm sure you're full of surprises. Most men are. Even sweet things like you." A pause, and then some mock bashfulness. "Ah, listen to me, I have been on the road for too long, haven't I? Please forgive my indiscretion, you have been nothing but kind and here I am, looking at your pretty face like a wolf at a sheep."
Well, it isn't a lie.
It just doesn't mean what it sounds like it does.
Tap tap tap.
Tap tap tap.
no subject
But -- no. It's simply Kronid's long, elegant fingers tapping against the arm of his chair. And he finds himself staring at Kronid's hand for a long moment before he forces himself to look back at his face again. "It's late. We're likely both tired. I'm sure you must be, for all you've been traveling today.
Why don't you let me show you to your room?"
no subject
But he knows his prey is caught, now. Especially with those words, and the promise they carry.
"Of course. I have kept you up for far too long," he purrs, standing, stretching languidly and carelessly as he does.
"I'm more than certain you must wish to find your way into bed by now."
One way or another.
no subject
Georg brushes a hand through his hair again as he stands, picking up the candelabra from the table to light their way along the dark hallways of the castle.
"It's no trouble. I'm a bit of a night bird, as it is. I often stay up nights, lost in a book or wandering the halls like some spectre."
no subject
So instead he tugs his necklace out from under his collar - a little row of coins from different countries, all with holes drilled through - fiddling with them in an idle motion. Clink. Clink. Clink. He's done this enough times to have it down, know how to play different circumstances.
He would need a sound to focus on, anyway. That hammering heartbeat is enticing, and his eyes periodically flick to Georg's pulse point in his throat.
"Ah, you too? I travel by nights. Less people on the roads. I've grown...accustomed to the dark."
no subject
Everything about the man draws him in. He's enticing. Intoxicating. The scent and sound of him makes it almost hard to breath and Georg leans against the door for a moment before turning to face him with a smile. "And this will be your room for the evening."
no subject
It isn't going to take much to get him into the room, he knows that much.
Smiling, he reaches out to rest a cold hand upon his forearm, stroking just an inch or so downward.
"I really can't thank you enough, Georg. This is nicer than anywhere I have slept...perhaps ever."
no subject
"It's entirely my pleasure. I'm happy to have you as my guest."
no subject
"...I assure you, the pleasure is all mine."
He wets his lips a little, expression shifting to something...dark, mysterious.
And then, as quickly as he started, he pulls back, sliding his hand just past Georg's waist to the doorknob, pushing the door open.
no subject
He rests his hand against Kronid's chest, lingering for a moment before he tries to move past him. "I'll... leave you to your rest. Have a good evening."
no subject
"...Good evening, Georg," he nearly whispers...and then pushes into the room, walking over towards the bed. Without even waiting for the door to shut, he starts to pull his shirt off...and he sings. Softly, in very old Romanian, but clearly, pushing his voice out, out to his prey.
"...Follow me...trust the night...."
no subject
He steps back into the room and sets the candelabra down, closing the door behind him. "Let me..." he starts to say, but the thought gets lost somewhere.
no subject
"...Only the night can save your soul...."
Pulling him in, relentlessly now. The hammer of his heart is ringing in Kronid's ears, unbearable. He's salivating, fighting the slow drop of his fangs back as long as he can.
no subject
"I can't," he whispers, stepping into Kronid's space. Gaze falling to his lips. "I shouldn't."
no subject
Well-practiced hands move out and up to the other man's shoulders as a warm hand meets his cold chest...preparing just in case Georg notices there is no heartbeat beneath that cold skin. One hand slithers across his collarbone to the collar of his nightshirt, long nails nimbly unfastening one button, then another.
Not long now. The protestations fall uselessly on the vampire. He knows Georg is already lost.
"...Free the longing...from all its chains...."
He closes more distance between them, leaving his lips only an inch or two away from Georg's. Tempting him, beguiling him. INVITING him.
no subject
Perhaps, just for one night, he can allow himself this.
no subject
Kronid hums low in his throat as he is kissed, nearly purring at the feeling of his cold body pressed against such warmth. He reciprocates the kiss, hungrily, pulling at Georg's shirt now, tugging it clear of his neck, his shoulders.
He pushes his body up against the larger man's, thigh firmly between his legs, pushing him steadily towards the bed.
If Georg finds even a moment of lucidity, he might notice something strange about the kiss...the coppery taste from what had been in the teacup on the stranger's tongue, the point of fangs hidden behind those tight-lipped smiles.
It's too late, even if he does notice.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)