Authors: Violet Jessamy
The ice cold shock of realization gave him back enough control over his body to be able to push Rogue away. The smaller man had far less mass than Milo did, and he half-flew, half-stumbled back more than six feet before crashing into the divider wall between stall doors.
For several, long seconds, the bathroom was absolutely silent. The blood started rushing in Milo’s ears as he fought to start breathing again. His eyes stung as it hit him like a sucker punch - Rogue had tried to drain him. Again. And like before, he had nearly succeeded. Milo’s only advantage had been the rigid training his father had started to put him through after Rogue had tried it the first time.
It felt like a betrayal six years in the making.
Feeling numb, Milo inched towards the door, not daring to look at the outsider that was so talented at messing with his emotions.
“Wait,” Rogue pleaded. His low voice was laced with power, and much as Milo tried, he could not take another step.
“Let me go,” he demanded, keeping his voice cold and distant as he tried desperately to fight the invisible snare.
“Please.” Rogue reached for a handhold and stood up again, elegantly as a cat. “Just hear me out. I didn’t mean to do it, I swear I didn’t.”
Milo’s hands clenched into tight fists. Rogue still sounded so sad, helpless, that manipulative son of a bitch.
“Right,” he growled. “Just like you didn’t mean to do it the last time.”
“It was my first kiss! I didn’t know what I was doing, back then. I didn’t know what I
“Yeah, maybe I’d believe that if you hadn’t just tried to do it
“I lost control.” Rogue’s voice broke. Milo could hear the
of the other man’s power as it ceased momentarily. It sounded like an arc of electricity. “Damn it, it’s been years. I’ve missed you. I couldn’t hold it back.”
Milo’s heart sank as he realized he was turning around to face the outsider.
Rogue looked achingly beautiful. His lips were dark red and wet from their kiss, his delicate ivory skin flushed with longing. Milo’s resolve melted away faster than he could blink.
“I’ve missed you so much.” Rogue’s voice was no more than a whisper. “I’m sorry I fucked up. Please don’t leave.
Milo had no idea what happened next. One second he was staring at Rogue from across the room, the next they had fallen into each other’s arms again and were locked in another heated kiss. One tiny part of him clung to rationality, helped him monitor his breaths just to be sure Rogue didn’t try to take them away again. But nothing happened. They just kept on kissing, deeper and more intensely, and his doubts were swept away and replaced with the fierce joy of seeing the man he had fallen in love with again after so very, very long.
Rogue was not as tall as him, and Milo was far more built where Rogue was wiry, but the outsider still managed to grab Milo by the front of his shirt, knock him into the wall, and then keep him trapped there with more kisses. Rogue’s eyes were so dark, his pupils so dilated with lust that Milo could barely see the white of his eyes at all.
The two men that crashed through the bathroom door at that moment made Milo jump with surprise, but Rogue barely seemed bothered at all as the two tall figures came barreling inside. He sucked on Milo’s tongue, his bottom lip, before finally allowing Milo to turn his head and stare at the new arrivals.
The one whose face he could see looked to be in his early thirties, wearing a dress shirt and tie and writhing in ecstasy as the other man, someone with short silver-blond hair, sucked the blood from his carotid artery.
Milo stared in horrified fascination. He knew the theory, of course, and he knew that it happened all the time, but he had never actually witnessed a vampire drinking blood before.
He had known it would be messy. His father had not told him, however, that there would be so much raw sexual tension involved in the act. Both of the men were grinding their hips against each other, their belts undone and pants unbuttoned. The collar of the human’s light blue shirt looked almost black with all the blood that stained it, but still he clung to the outsider who was sucking him dry while his entire body seemed to demand more. The vampire eventually took control, slamming the human into the wall less than a foot away from Milo.
While he watched an uncontrollably twitching hand trying to find purchase on the slippery wall tiles, it occurred to Milo that he should probably be doing something apart from standing there and watching the guy be killed.
Rogue seemed to have guessed his thoughts. Before Milo could so much as move a muscle, surprisingly strong arms had tightened around him and drawn him closer.
“Don’t,” Rogue muttered into his ear. “It’s consensual. He’ll stop.”
Milo swallowed hard. He couldn’t stop staring.
“How the hell do you know that?”
“I know,” Rogue replied simply, which was not exactly helpful when it came to calming Milo’s anxiety. But a moment later, the morbid couple next to them finally came apart. A fine sprinkle of blood droplets accompanied the act. The vampire stood back, and the human stumbled against the wall and slid to the ground like a sack of flour.
“Pardon me,” the vampire said, still breathing heavily as he glanced at them, and licked blood from his fingers.
Milo remained speechless. Rogue, however, sighed.
“Good evening, Marcel.”
The vampire’s eyes flicked upwards for a brief moment.
“Oh, it’s you,” he said then. “I should have known. And who’s this?”
Marcel’s eyes traveled to Milo, who shifted uncomfortably when he saw the open desire in them.
“Are you going to share?” the vampire demanded to know. There was a slight smirk on his face. “If I recall correctly, you owe me a good time.”
“Not him.” Rogue’s voice, usually so dark and seductive, had gone ice cold. His arms once more tightened around Milo.
“Didn’t your mother teach you that it’s rude to keep your toys all to yourself?” Marcel grinned, then extended his tongue to catch a droplet of blood that was dripping from his wrist. The front of the vampire’s pants was bulging obscenely.
“Your boyfriend is dying,” Rogue said, voice still emotionless.
Marcel did not look too bothered by the fact.
“Oh,” he said. “Right.” He dug in his pocket, produced a syringe and knelt before the motionless man on the floor. Milo looked away just before Marcel gave his victim the drug cocktail that would hopefully stabilize him. He hated needles.
“Anyway,” Marcel continued, as though nothing at all was wrong, “don’t stop making out on my account. You know I love watching you, and I’m sure he tastes fantastic.”
Milo felt Rogue’s hands withdrawing from his torso as he clenched them into fists. Then the other man stopped holding him altogether and started to push Milo towards the door instead.
“Come on,” he said, taking the lead. Milo followed without a word of protest. He had no objections to bringing some distance between himself and the vampire who obviously wanted to jump his bones. The situation, however, was leaving a bad taste in his mouth. As soon as they had turned a corner, he whirled around to face Rogue.
“What the fuck was that about?” he demanded to know.
Rogue’s eyes, now back to dark grey, narrowed.
“What was what about?”
“How do you know that vampire?”
The other man looked rather displeased with the turn the conversation had taken.
“Does it really matter?” Rogue asked, scowling.
“Yes, it fucking matters!” Milo was shouting now, feeling ridiculously upset. “You tell me to trust you, but you won’t even answer my question. I am
Rogue ran his hands through his hair, looking nervous and even a little scared. At least he wasn’t using his powers now to try and stop Milo from thinking.
“Why are you so upset?” the outsider asked. There was a note of sadness laced with the question. Milo slumped.
“Because…” He fought to find the right words. “Because last thing I knew, we were playing Nascar on my carpet with toy cars, and now you’re…” He gesticulated wildly. “I don’t even know. What the fuck happened to you?”
“Like you don’t know,” Rogue growled.
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be asking.”
“Damn it Milo, what do you think? I got caught up in the middle of the riots. My mother was killed a week after I last saw you. She never got around to teaching me a damn thing about my powers, and I didn’t know what to do. I had nowhere to go, and I didn’t want to be around humans because I was afraid I would lose control again.”
Milo’s heart sank. He knew the riots had been bad. His dad had kept him sheltered from the worst of it, but he’d heard the stories.
“Then what?” he asked hoarsely.
“Marcel was one of the vampires who gave me shelter,” Rogue explained before lowering his gaze to the floor. “I started needing sex. I can’t kill vampires by draining them, so I just… indulged. I stayed away from others until I learned to control myself.”
Milo felt sick.
“That’s fucked up.”
“It’s who I am.” Rogue’s eyes burned when he looked at Milo again. “I can’t help it. I’ve been surviving, that’s all. A lot happened that I’m not proud of, but I never killed anyone.”
Milo stared at the other man. On the outside, Rogue had barely changed since they had seen each other six years ago, but at the same time he couldn’t have been more different from the quiet, almost shy teenager who had kissed Milo back then.
Only when Rogue raised his eyebrows questioningly did Milo realize that he had been quiet for some time, contemplating the point.
“You aren’t who I knew back then,” he explained out loud, and only then realized how cruel it sounded.
“No,” Rogue agreed sadly, leaning his head against the wall. “I’m a whore and an opportunist and I’m about as far from innocent as you can get.”
Milo found another truth, and shared that one as well.
“I still love you.”
Rogue’s eyes darkened as though someone had poured black ink over them.
Milo reached for the outsider, brushed cold skin with his fingertips. Rogue leaned into the touch as though he was starved for it, and Milo kept going, cupping the other man’s cheek, running his thumb across those full, sensual lips.
“Dance with me,” Rogue said then.
Milo frowned at the request, but he wasn’t given the opportunity to say no. Rogue simply took his hand and pulled him through the narrow corridor. They re-entered the club proper, ears once more assaulted by music, and threaded their way through the crowd until Rogue stopped in the middle of the dancefloor and threw his arms around Milo’s neck, pulling him close.
Milo felt the surge of lust at once when their bodies were pressed together. Their foreheads touched, and they swayed to their very own rhythm. Soon, Rogue was grinding on him, the bulge in his pants firm against the top of Milo’s thigh, and it felt like the best thing ever. He was holding on to the smaller taut body for dear life. Their chests rose and sank in unison, more and more hectic as Milo felt himself growing rock hard.
Rogue seemed so determined, touching him in all the right places, eager hands sliding beneath his shirt and halfway into his jeans. Milo felt the other man’s power flaring up once more, but this time, he didn’t mind. This time, he knew how he felt and what he wanted. So he relaxed and pressed Rogue’s body more precisely against his own. Something utterly lustful exploded behind his eyes as a result. Tension swept through him and gripped him tight.
Then black, glittering eyes held his gaze.
“Fuck me,” Rogue demanded bluntly. Milo could barely hear him over the music, but it was clear enough.
Weakly, he nodded. His hand searched for and found Rogue’s, and he tried to turn away while trying to figure out where they could go.
Except Rogue didn’t seem to want to go anywhere. The outsider kept holding on to him, full lips finding Milo’s throat and sucking on the skin there. One slim hand caused Milo’s cock to harden to the point of
Then, suddenly, the music was gone, and nothing but the quickening beat of his own heart rang in Milo’s ears.
White-hot lust exploded in his belly. With single-minded determination, he tore at Rogue’s clothes, and it took him quite a while before his training kicked in and allowed a small part of his mind to break free of Rogue’s hold.
It was that small part which reminded him how anxious his father had been in the presence of Rogue’s mother, how much the succubus had affected him - and she hadn’t even been looking to seduce him. Rogue, on the other hand, seemed determined to have sex right here on the dancefloor, and he was, consciously or not, tapping into all the power he had in order to get his way.
Milo was aware of it, but he couldn’t fight it - not when he was aching to have Rogue of his own free will. So he did the only thing that made sense and gave up on his struggle, fell back into the tempting web Rogue had spun around him.
The next time he blinked his eyes open, he was back in reality. The music once more pulsated through him, and Rogue was still grinding against him. The outsider’s shirt had vanished. His lean, muscular chest was begging to be licked all over.
Milo realized that his hands were busy tearing at the other man’s belt. He dropped to his knees and put his lips to Rogue’s lower belly while he finished the task. Miraculously, nobody fell over him while he peeled the outsider’s jeans down bit by bit, kissing his way deeper and deeper. He felt the vibration as Rogue groaned, welcomed the feeling of hands gripping his hair.
He had only just reached the very top of the base of Rogue’s shaft, nuzzled it, and prepared to reveal the rest of it when Rogue forcefully pulled him back to his feet. Then kissed deeply, tongues intertwining. Milo lost his shirt the second they came apart. Rogue threw it into the crowd in a high arc.
Being skin on skin felt incredibly good. Milo couldn’t stop running his hands all over Rogue’s soft, cool skin, and the outsider seemed just as fixated on Milo’s torso. A small current of electricity seemed to be buzzing between them - whether Milo imagined it, or whether it was Rogue’s power or even a manifestation of the sexual tension, he wasn’t sure.