[Charlie has long stopped breathing, an uncanniness he wears brazenly even pledged to the Masquerade. His argument holds that people are too focused on his fucked up eyes to worry about much else, and. Hey, he talks so much there's little question to his lungs' capacity for wind!
Now, though, the taste of Miraj's vitae forces him to inhale. As if he could taste it more acutely. As if he could pull more down his throat. But, despite how blatantly eager Charlie is to indulge, the feeding itself is a fairly gentle one.
It seems Miraj agrees.
Charlie's elbow shifts into the man's hand on instinct, seeking contact.
Showing deference to a Primogen is Charlie's priority, but physicality is his preference, and in this most base state of consumption, he lacks the awareness to temper himself completely. His fingers twitch, tilting forward to spread across Miraj's shoulder. Smooth skin, something to grab-
His palm seizes, hand retreating in sudden discomfort. Charlie disconnects with a hitch in his throat, glaring at his own limb as his tongue sweeps over the puncture holes in Miraj's neck.]
...I'm gonna ask you a blunt question. [Voice off-kilter, too airy for its usual timbre.] So you know, I wouldn't normally. [To avoid prying, he means, though his perpetually sinister demeanor doesn't make that specificity clear.] But now- [His fingers stretch out, straining before he curls them back inwards.] -did you want me to touch you?
[The house stopped him, that much is obvious, but why? In servitude to a wildcard, but not to its lascivious purpose? He expects to be met with similar recourse if he avoids the call for sex, too, so getting tangled with a guy who doesn't know what he fucking wants would be a pain.
no subject
Now, though, the taste of Miraj's vitae forces him to inhale. As if he could taste it more acutely. As if he could pull more down his throat. But, despite how blatantly eager Charlie is to indulge, the feeding itself is a fairly gentle one.
It seems Miraj agrees.
Charlie's elbow shifts into the man's hand on instinct, seeking contact.
Showing deference to a Primogen is Charlie's priority, but physicality is his preference, and in this most base state of consumption, he lacks the awareness to temper himself completely. His fingers twitch, tilting forward to spread across Miraj's shoulder. Smooth skin, something to grab-
His palm seizes, hand retreating in sudden discomfort. Charlie disconnects with a hitch in his throat, glaring at his own limb as his tongue sweeps over the puncture holes in Miraj's neck.]
...I'm gonna ask you a blunt question. [Voice off-kilter, too airy for its usual timbre.] So you know, I wouldn't normally. [To avoid prying, he means, though his perpetually sinister demeanor doesn't make that specificity clear.] But now- [His fingers stretch out, straining before he curls them back inwards.] -did you want me to touch you?
[The house stopped him, that much is obvious, but why? In servitude to a wildcard, but not to its lascivious purpose? He expects to be met with similar recourse if he avoids the call for sex, too, so getting tangled with a guy who doesn't know what he fucking wants would be a pain.
Like he said. It's a two person game.]