[ Stanford smooths a hand up into his shirt, warm and broad, and Ozpin makes a low sound against his throat. He is cognizant of very little except heat and taste. He sucks at the wound rhythmically; his throat works as he swallows.
He does not consciously mean to press Stanford down onto his back. The shift of weight is greedy and automatic: one hand now tangled in Ford's vest, the other in his hair, keeping his throat bared just so. Pressing Stanford down is a natural progression, a simple movement of gravity. It's only once Stanford's shoulders hit the chaise that he thrills with familiarity and realization.
It's enough to inspire a flicker of higher thought. Ozpin licks the smear of blood away, warm and intent, then draws back just enough to look at him.
His eyes glow in the low light. His fangs are bright white against his stained-dark tongue, and he licks blood from his lips before he can be caught by hesitation or shame. Stanford is flushed and rumpled and still bleeding, beneath him, and he has not felt this sweetly euphoric in possibly the whole of his existence. His whole being seems to buzz with it. Whatever he does next is not likely to be intelligent. ]
no subject
He does not consciously mean to press Stanford down onto his back. The shift of weight is greedy and automatic: one hand now tangled in Ford's vest, the other in his hair, keeping his throat bared just so. Pressing Stanford down is a natural progression, a simple movement of gravity. It's only once Stanford's shoulders hit the chaise that he thrills with familiarity and realization.
It's enough to inspire a flicker of higher thought. Ozpin licks the smear of blood away, warm and intent, then draws back just enough to look at him.
His eyes glow in the low light. His fangs are bright white against his stained-dark tongue, and he licks blood from his lips before he can be caught by hesitation or shame. Stanford is flushed and rumpled and still bleeding, beneath him, and he has not felt this sweetly euphoric in possibly the whole of his existence. His whole being seems to buzz with it. Whatever he does next is not likely to be intelligent. ]