Damon watched Eric glide along the dance floor with ease, his hand steady on another man's hip. Younger than him. They always were- though they were always female. A broad. A dame. A flapper girl. Something young and pretty to keep the viking occupied for the night.
Yet everything changed. Suddenly they were in the capital of Germany, no trace of a coven of witches for a daylight ring. Just nightclubs that apparently catered to… He didn't even want to think about it.
Eric's simple explanation was he was bored with women. How can anyone ever be bored of a good dame? He insisted to the viking that he just needed to find a handsome woman but he just wasn't hearing it.
And now here they were.
When did jazz clubs cater to, to faggots?
He wasn't against, those who preferred the company of other men. It just wasn't right. Eric wasn't a poof. A nance. Eric was the pinnacle of a man. He knew there were other vampires who took the company of other men. He'd heard the whispers. The rumors of vampires fornicating with both sexes.
He just didn't realize Eric was that sort of vampire.
His eyes narrowed ever so slightly as he sucked in his teeth watching the crude display in front of him. He knew the viking wasn't one to shy away from open intimacy but kissing the boy in the middle of a club was bold. There was an unfamiliar burning in his throat, which he cured with a swig of bourbon as his eyes darted away from his companion.
He didn't have to be here. He could go across the street to somewhere more his tastes. Something higher class, with beautiful, young German women.
His attention was drawn back again to Eric as he continued to lead his partner around the floor, his hands dangerously close to the man's bottom. At least, Eric could do better than this, man. He'd seen the viking take home actresses, singers even actual royalty without so much of a whisper of compulsion. There should be no difference with his men he chose. From the eyes around the room, he could have any one of these gentlemen.
And yet he chose this average joe.
"Are you his?"
Pale blue met emerald green as he averted his gaze upward to his unwanted guest standing in front of his table.
His usual snarky reply was caught in his throat as the man held his stare. They were small, narrow but the green hue shone through giving the man a naturally wicked gleam. His strong jawline matched his sharp cheekbones, that were accentuated with his dark, just past five o'clock shadow. And with his dark hair slicked back in elegant, fashionable style, matched with his equally stylish charcoal evening lounge suit, with a white pocket square- suggested he was of nobility.
It was then- and feeling like a complete idiot now- he realized his skin was an unhealthy white hue. A vampire. Of course.
"Of course. I let my fella dance with every man that catches his eye." He snorted, sneering as the stranger took the empty seat next to him.
"So single then." The man replied. The man, he observed, did everything with propriety to leaning against the wooden chair, to crossing his legs to extending his hand out to him. "Sebastian."
Damon stared at the offered appendage for a long moment, feeling oddly apprehensive but he took it. Just like Eric, the touch was frigid but smooth and an obvious amount of strength behind it but only enough to impress. "Damon."
"So Damon," he found himself following Sebastian's tongue as it moistened his sulky,
full lips, enjoying the way his deep raspy voice said his name. "What brings you to my country?"
He snorted, bringing his glass back to his lips. "I didn't realize I was speaking to the ruler of Germany."
"I prefer King." The man continued, making him roll his eyes at his ego. He went rigid as those lips found themselves next to his ear. "Or your majesty, but only when you're on your knees."
He attempted to chuckle but instead it came out as a small, amused puff of air as his hand shook while taking a sip of his bourbon.
"Are you flirting with me?" He asked.
His hand shot out as he forced the man to pause, almost feeling Sebastian's fingers at the edge of his cheek. He didn't seem to mind as he stared back at him. "What if I was?"
"Well King Sebastian," he waved his hand over his glass at the waiter as he passed by, before turning back, giving his guest a smirk. "I'm not interested. In you. In any man. I'm just here with my friend, so find someone else to buy your little King bit." He let the man's hand drop and moved back into his own space. "I'd try maybe saying you're a Count, I could believe that."
"Clever, a Dracula joke." Sebastian hummed, his fingers running up along his arm. "The attractive ones are always dumb, though."
There was a pause as a waiter was now at his table, with a fresh glass of bourbon. He bowed slightly at Sebastian. "Will there be anything else for you your highness, or your guest?"
"No, that'll be all Charles." Damon watched as he waved away the waiter.
Did the waiter just call him, your highness?
"Wait-" he started, staring at the receding waiter and back at Sebastian.
"I wasn't lying Damon. I'd never do that to you." Those green eyes were holding his gaze as the older vampire brought himself closer to him. "So why are you lying to yourself?"
He furrowed his eyebrows.
"About what you want." The man continued, his fingers leaving Damon's clothed bicep and onto his jaw.
"Are you trying to seduce me?"
He sucked in his breath as he found himself a mere second away from the other man's lips. "Kiss me."
"Kiss," his eyes darted from Damon's lips to his eyes "Me."
For a fraction of a second, he froze, but found his bearings, pushing Sebastian away from him. "I'm not a faggot."
"Neither am I." His emerald greens found Damon's icy blues. "Being a faggot means we're human. We're vampires,"
"Yeah, but we both still have cocks."
Sebastian snorted, shaking his head at him. "Of course. Don't tell you've never been with a vampire before? I assumed by your jealous behaviour, and your friends obviously ploy to put you in that jealous state, you two were intimate."
Since meeting the so-called King of Germany, his eyes found themselves searching out for Eric. Where did that viking go anyway?
"He left a few minutes ago with Henrich. Cute boy. Nowhere near as exotic as you." Damon's eyes narrowed as Sebastian ran his fingers along his jaw again. "So have you been with a vampire?"
"A male vampire?"
He paused, seeing the wicked gleam sparkle in the other vampire's eyes. "I'll take that as a no."
"I don't like men."
"Have you ever considered it?"
The man sighed, giving him a sympathetic smile. "Still so young." His tongue ran along his lips again. "Why not?"
"Why not?" He snorted. "Because it's wrong. Because I like women. Because I don't like men. I'm not sure how more simply I can put this."
"First off, I do hope you aren't referring to some Christian notion of sodomy. That's a human religion, we're vampires. Second, how can you say you don't like men when you've never been with one." Damon's eyes shot open as he felt a hand run along his thigh.
"Your hand-" His voice broke as Sebastian's fingers massaged inches from his groin.
"Yes Damon, it's right by your cock. Do you feel it? The pleasure from a simple touch." He gasped as lips were against his ear. "I know exactly what you want. Let me give it to you."
"This is wrong," he whispered, his cheek touching the other man's cheek, feeling the tickle of his facial hair.
"No, it's sinful." Sebastian shifted ever so slightly so their noses were touching. "Kiss me Damon. Try it."
This close he noticed a slight speckle of hazel within Sebastian's green eyes. He knew the man in front of him was handsome, perhaps one of the most attractive vampires he'd ever paid enough attention to notice. But his eyes weren't blue. They didn't remind him of the ocean. His eyebrows were too thick, and his hair too dark. His cheekbones were too rigid, and his jawline too wide. His nose was upturned and thin, not slightly bulbous and large. His lips weren't thin enough. When he smirked, it didn't make him shiver. In fact, he wasn't pale enough. And too much facial hair. But most importantly, he smelled like the city. He didn't smell like the ocean in winter.
He wasn't Eric.
Never before in his life had he wanted to disappear as badly as he did now.
"You have one second to take your hand off Damon's leg," Damon followed Eric as he leaned forward, a hand on the back of Sebastian's chair, his fangs exposed as his lips went closer to the other vampire's ear. "Or I'll rip your heart out."
"Eric, don't! He's the King of Germany!" He exclaimed.
His words didn't seem to matter as both men stared each other down, before Sebastian exposed his own fangs. "You have no claim over the boy."
"Maybe not, but you're not the King of Germany," Eric smirked.
"Oh Damon," Eric shook his head at him as he ruffled his hair. "He's a progeny of the King of Germany. The King of Germany is almost two thousand years old, with white hair, and wears an eye patch."
"So you lied?" He snarled, pushing both Sebastian and Eric off of him.
"I suppose I could have said Prince, but I just liked the way King rolled off your lips," Sebastian winked.
"You're a disgusting, vile person!" He spat.
Eric took a step back so he could stand up, downing the entire glass of bourbon he'd left untouched.
"You ever lay another finger on Damon, it won't matter your maker is the King of Germany. I'll plunge a stake through your heart. " Eric hissed but Damon didn't wait for Eric or say goodbye to the Prince of Germany, he scurried out of the smoky bar and into the moonlight.
He fell against the brick of the club, squeezing his eyes shut.
How could he have almost fallen for that?
He should have left the moment Eric entered that bar. He didn't like men. He wasn't a faggot. He wasn't sexually attracted to men.
It was sodomy. And sodomy was wrong. Or was it? Sebastian did make one good argument- he was a vampire. Not a human. And vampires experimented with both sexes. He'd even seen his brother fornicate with another male.
It wasn't like he couldn't aesthetically appreciate male beauty. Sebastian was handsome. Eric was handsome.
"Are you alright?"
He shrugged his shoulders, giving Eric a small smile in hopes they'd never speak of what transpired in that bar. His eyes met the icy blues of the vikings who stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable before turning around and hailing down a taxi.
He felt numb as he followed behind Eric, as the vampire was successfully able to find a taxi and he took a seat next to him. He didn't even hear what address Eric gave the man, he just leaned into the leather seats letting the bourbon settle his mind.
There was just one inescapable question of the evening- what was it like to kiss a man? A vampire?
His eyes found themselves staring at Eric's mouth. Would he be gentle? Or rough? He imagined rough, he was a viking he took what he want. Would they be soft, and smooth like a woman's? Or cracked, and brittle like others? He imagined smooth like granite and cold like the stone. Would he cup his face? Or run his hand down his back? Would he run his fingers through his hair? Would there be a lot of tongue? Or none at all? Just enough?
Would Eric want to kiss him at all?
"We're here Damon."
He felt himself flush as he quickly escaped out of the taxi, never meeting Eric's gaze. The viking didn't say a word as they strolled together into The Kaiserhof nodding to some SS men in the lobby before they continued to his room. It was rumored the Adolf Hitler stayed here, but he'd never witnessed the man. He didn't keep up with German politics.
He took out his key, putting into the lock as they reached his room, letting himself, and Eric into the room. He'd afforded himself one of the luxurious suites, with a sitting area and a large bed.
The large chandelier in the middle of the room illuminated the area though it left much of the corners in almost darkness. He walked over to the sitting area, throwing his jacket onto the couch, before turning back toward Eric.
"Do you want to talk about what happened Damon? I'm sorry I left you alone in a club like that." Eric said, his body half in darkness as he leaned against the wall by the door.
"I can handle myself." He huffed.
'Yes, usually. But you insisted you weren't interested in men."
"I'm not." He insisted, finding himself drawn closer to Eric. "You just caught us at a bad time. He was just being persistent."
"Why didn't you shove him off yourself though? It looked like you were going to kiss him," Eric asked.
He just shook his head, and reached out to the viking, placing a hand on his forearm. His other hand ran up along Eric's clothed chest, to graze over his smooth jaw. He cursed their height disparity, as he stared up at the other vampire, appreciating his ocean blue eyes. His slightly bulbous nose. His thin lips.
There were no words, just Eric's raised eyebrow.
Just kiss him. Then you'll know.
His fingers danced along his jaw, down his neck, and to his tie. He felt faint as his entire body was electrified, taking a shaky breath he didn't need.
He closed his eyes, taking a moment before his fingers wrapped themselves around Eric's tie and tugged. In the last instant, his eyes shot open just for a second as their lips met. They were soft, frosty… and weren't moving.
He pulled back, his eyes falling to his shoes. "I…" he licked his lips, Eric tasted like blood. "I'm sorry." He ran a hand through his hair, looking back at the door. "I don't know what I was thinking, he said-"
"Is this what you want?"
He let his eyes scale up Eric until they met each other's again. He shivered and bit his bottom lip as he saw the flash of hunger. Then something darker. He wasn't sure what he was seeing, they were in the shadows. Lust? Passion? Obsession?
"Is this what you want?" Eric asked again.
He gulped, feeling the sudden dryness in his throat as he just nodded.
"Say it Damon."
"I want this,"
There was no warning as he found himself pressed against the wall where Eric previously stood, lips against his own again. He tasted blood, as it mixed with the bourbon that still prevaded his taste buds. He drew a sharp breath, Eric's delectable scent- an ocean in the winter- invaded his scenes.
It took a moment, but he kissed the viking back, dragging his fingers down the soft fabric of Eric's evening jacket. His lips were just as soft as before, but powerful as he completely dominated the kiss. It was frightening how perfect this felt to him. All his nerve endings were on fire.
One of Eric's hands came to cradle the back of his head, threading his fingers through his hair as the other slithered down his back until it settled on the small of his back. He gasped as those fingers found themselves under his shirt and Eric's tongue invaded his mouth.
As the kiss deepened, he flung his arm around Eric's shoulder pushing him closer. He wanted their bodies to be as close as possible. He wanted to feel all of the viking against him.
Eric gasped into his mouth as both their obvious excitement brushed against each others. He tugged on the back of Eric's hair, as he felt Eric's tongue do an exploratory map of his gums.
"Eric," he panted out, cursing his vampire species for needing to take a breath.
Of course, this didn't stop Eric, as he kissed along his jawline, feeling the nips of Eric's fangs on his skin.
"Älskling" Eric moaned into his neck as he continued the assault. It was Eric's native tongue, he knew that for sure from observing his conversations with Godric. Or Pam.
"Eric please I need-"
He didn't need to finish his thought as the viking just collided their lips back together again. It was harsh, domineering and he just submitted to the vampire. Eric's hand wove around his waist, and rolled their hips together.
He may be new to this, being with another man, but God did he want Eric to do everything, and anything to him.
It was then he found himself pushing hard onto Eric's chest, needing an escape.
He couldn't breathe as he leaned forward needing to gather himself.
"Damon, what is the matter?" Eric asked, reaching out to him but he found himself on the other side of the room, his back to Eric.
"I just wanted to know what it was like to kiss a man. Now I have." He said simply, staring out into the darkness of Berlin from the window.
"So it meant nothing to you? Just an experiment?"
He winced at Eric's words but kept his composure. "Yes."
"Then I'll leave. We depart for Paris tomorrow."
He nodded as he brought his arms into his chest, wanting nothing more than to be alone.
He flinched as an arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him in close as lips ghosted along his neck. "When you're ready to face this, know this. I will kiss you again. I will have you. I will fuck you. I will ruin you. I will destroy you until you're mine."
And like that he felt Eric disappear, as those words send shivers down his spine. He brought his fingers to his lips, still feeling Eric's arctic ones on his. It was just a kiss, but there was an indescribable amount of passion behind it. He hadn't been expecting that. It was just a kiss. It was just Eric. But those words were now coursing through his veins. They made him question everything that he was. He didn't like men, yet the idea of letting Eric defile him sent sparks to his groin. He supposed those words would frighten anyone but in that moment, he never felt more wanted. More loved. More alive.
He realized in that instant, the line in the sand he'd drawn in regards to his relationship with Eric, to his sexuality, was now completely washed away by the tide.
And the tide consisted of one thing.
And who was he to ignore it?