Ray’s tiredness and color lately alarms Fraser. He’ll stop (happily drown in it) – he’s been taking too much (so delicious). Ray needs to replenish (a transfusion?).
“I’m drinking OJ, eating red meat.” Ray shrugs, offering his wrist. Fraser shakes his head despite the hypnotic lub-dup in his ears.
“No, thank you.” Dief yips. “Shh,” Fraser mutters.
“Take it.” Ray shoves his wrist higher under Fraser’s nose, the elixir of his blood enticing. “Your eyes, you're fanged out – drink!”
“I’ll get a rabbit.” Fraser turns away, fighting the pull, every cell in his body addictively seeking Ray’s blood.
“Fine,” Ray sighs. He abruptly stands and unbuckles, unbuttons, and unzips.
“What are y--”
“Femoral?” Ray murmurs, shoving everything down, exposing tawny curls a shade darker than his head and lightly furred thighs. His cock beats to life, eye-level.
“Ray--” Unbearable heat is behind Fraser’s eyes. It’s not blood lust now–
“Bigger vein, right? Ignore that,” Ray murmurs, gesturing at his growing arousal.
As if. His throbbing pulse is inside Fraser’s head.
“Actually...” Fraser’s hand circles the base; the tip of his tongue touches the head.
“Wait,” Ray breathes. “You need--”
“I want this,” Fraser hisses.
He engulfs Ray’s cock (careful; lips over fangs), Ray’s gasp barely audible over the deafening rhythm. Fraser’s enhanced abilities are unfair, really. Ray quickly begs, his strangled cry heralding orgasm.
Fraser swallows it greedily. He does not expect the bone-deep satiation... the familiar narcotic calm. Ray’s knees shake. He sinks down on the couch, panting. Fraser follows, pursuing every drop. His tongue circles his lips for the last of it.
“Ray.” Its soporific effect envelopes Fraser, sprawled clothed between Ray’s open, naked thighs.
Ray’s eyelashes flutter. “Yeah?” His hand strokes Fraser’s hair.
“This may be a suitable alternative,” Fraser murmurs, fully sated, utterly relieved.