overjoyed_logs | Pre-Game catchall stuff

[ And in response Rhys just about stops moving entirely.

...Not to the command, mind you, but the fact that Crowley's just reached out to touch him like that, that the feel of those cold fingers causes his skin to prickle with goosebumps. Crowley blames the glow of his eyes on him and Rhys doesn't even have a retort for that as those fingers dig in; all he feels is a sudden lack of breath and a rapidly-bubbling unease. Embarrassment is right on its heels because--well. Because. How else is he supposed to feel in this sort of situation? Crowley goes from "you've got my back if I murder someone" to touching him like this and beckoning him closer.

Who wouldn't totally mix up the signals he's receiving right now and assume it's something less...hunger-driven. Or well. Not the physical kind of hunger anyway. This very much seems like one of those situations and he isn't at all prepared to be in one with Crowley. Like...they're friends? Ish? They snark at each other, that's their thing.

This, what Crowley's doing right now?

Not That Thing.

Rhys swallows thickly, heart thrumming with indecision. ]

O-oh, I....um. I--

Okay?

[ This is a terrible decision he shouldn't do this with Crowley this is weird and it's going to make things weird and wow his face and neck suddenly feel hot?? (Don't worry, he'll be appropriately mortified later). ]

[ It's strange to look at Rhys in a new light, but the two of them are not at fault for what was happening now. It's supposed to mean nothing--it is nothing and he supposes that he doesn't mind it either. (He'll soon learn to adapt and make this into nothing but normal anyway.) Their relationship will remain strictly unemotional, that much Crowley is sure of as an infallible fact, and his mind is so focused on this aching craving that he doesn't realize at all that his words could possibly mean anything else.

Intimacy wasn't something Crowley was unfamiliar with, losing space and feeling the heat radiate off of another body was, admittedly, something he's experienced many times before. With Rhys it may be a little different but not enough for him to shy away or hesitate, so when the other man creeps closer he's satisfied. Slightly.

Still not close enough.

Bringing a hand up to grab the taller of the two by the side, Crowley pulls him into bed with him. It's done easily with this new strength of his and despite the feeling being new to him it also felt so natural, as if he had the power to tug and pull at what he pleased all his life. Or maybe Rhys is scrawnier than he initially thought. It doesn't really matter.

Hey, Rhys, have you ever been hugged by a vampire? Because that's exactly what Crowley was doing now, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he sinks his back into the mattress of the bed and doesn't even hear it sigh underneath their shared weight. It's not possessive, but he's certainly trapped there despite it being an actual hug. But most importantly the action translates to "I'm glad that you're here".

And he's so, so glad that Rhys was here in this moment, his throat clenching as Crowley buries his face into the crook of the male's neck. And it's there that he realizes he's found his answer to every bit of pain he's been suffering the past three days.

He chuckles lightly against skin, breath warm, just before opening his mouth. ] If you scream I'll kill you. [ The vampire leans in to then close his mouth against the man's jugular, fangs sinking into soft and tender flesh before blood begins to fill his mouth. ]

[ Rhys can't honestly say he ever has been hugged by a vampire, no. Technically speaking those aren't even supposed to exist, and that Crowley could intend anything but what his wild imagination has started to supply is beyond him. Crowley beckons him over, grabs and pulls when he least expects it and Rhys can't helped the short-lived but sharp little sound he makes. It catches in his throats and winds up strangled, because now it feels like all the blood in his body is rushing up into his face.

He's hugging him. Embracing, drawing him back onto the bed and Rhys hardly has a moment to push his palms flat into the mattress beneath them to brace himself lest he collapse atop the other man, and by then his heart is practically pounding in his chest. Crowley has never shown interest in him like this. Hell, for a amiable as friends as they are they've never even really hugged. That was...it's not a Thing that happens to Rhys, usually. Sometimes maybe his paid-for friend would and catch him off guard, but that was...different.

This is different and Rhys can't help the unconsciously clingy emotional response he has to the gesture. Crowley's holding him so close he's sure the other man can feel his pulse pounding away inside his rib cage and gods, he's never thought of him this way? How long as Crowley felt like this...? Is it just because he thinks he's dying and this is just some final...hurrah? Did he choose Rhys just for that?

When he feels the man's mouth press against his throat Rhys very suddenly feels parched and lets out a very pathetic sort of whine (not a keen. An actual uncertain and very embarrassed whine). He should say something, he should ask what the heck Crowley's doing, he sh...oooould worry a lot more that apparently is threatening to kill him if he screams. Why the heck would he do that? It's not as if Rhys is that big a spazz, he's been come onto before. ]

Scr--ugh! [ He was going to put out something affronted and frazzled there, something to express his displeasure with a statement like that even being a necessity, but apparently it's rather warranted. Rhys doesn't even get to finish "scream" before the man bites him and a choked sound of pain catches in his throat.

His gut instinct is to try and pull back as he goes tense and grips the bedding beneath them tight. Heck, the jump in his pulse is so significant that his cybernetic eye even flashes up with a routine warning notification for him...but that's before It happens. Something twisted and anxiety-inducing, something that's so much more humiliating than being thought unable to handle a little making out. It causes Rhys to jolt and twitch against the man as his eyes widen in mortification, the muscles in his throat impossibly tight. It feels like he's choking and burning all at once and he needs to get it out of him--

So Rhys moans.

Loudly, shamefully, and worst of all? In ecstasy. ]

[ jesus fucking christ rhys

Apparently Crowley has been feeling like this for the past ten minutes, or however Rhys has been in the same room with him. Predatory, carnivorous, and the adrenaline and whatever else Rhys is experiencing helps course his blood directly into Crowley's mouth.

Hungry, desperate, unknowing but aware at the same time, he moves as if he was an entirely new person. New in a sense that he doesn't know what was going on with his own body, how he could hear and feel things he couldn't before this disease took over, or why this craving completely controls every action he makes. This embrace, this physical contact, it will soon register as his means of survival once Crowley takes the time to put all the pieces together.

He drinks and his grip tightens, practically keeping the other man locked in a cage. His mouth fills with the familiar coppery taste of blood but once it touches his tongue he can finally taste something. It's bitter. Rhys' blood is bitter, and admittedly Crowley never liked bitter foods to begin with so swallowing was a task in itself. But after nearly starving to death he's willing to drink to his fill. Needy. Crowley has never felt so damn needy before in his life.

His body feels warm, warmer than it has in the past three days, and possibly warmer than it has his entire life. If asked he's feeling a lot of things he can't describe through words; content, strange... full.

Yes. He's full now.

He opens his mouth, sloppily pulling out and possibly causing more pain than anything given their position. Small droplets of blood pour from the open wound and Crowley extends his tongue, lapping up what he can against a pulsating neck before finally bringing his head back against the pillows. He finally releases the taller individual, one hand moving briefly to his chest to check if there's still a heartbeat. Once he's convinced that Rhys is well and alive his hands are completely off of him.

Blood peppers around his lips which then curl into a wolfish grin as a chilling fit of laughter rumbles in his chest. ]

I get it. [ He feigns his anger, disguising it perfectly behind the tone of his voice. ] Ah, hell, I guess I'm a bloodsucker now.

[ Whatever the hell that's supposed to mean... but Crowley understands that by drinking blood he's well and alive.

Calmly, as if none of this had happened, he looks down Rhys. ]

My family is going to be in some deep shit, don't you think?

[ Look no one told him this was going to simultaneously hurt and be the most uncomfortably pleasurable thing he's felt in a while?? And all that aside he wasn't expecting to be bitten. Macked on, felt up maybe, made out with a little? Sure. But having Crowley drag him over and do...this is so far beyond what Rhys was expecting that he literally can't fathom a course of action beyond struggling to breathe while it feels like his neck's mildly on fire.

What is Crowley doing to him?? Like, obviously there's the bite but he's...drinking? His blood? And it feels wrong and amazing and that causes another very pathetic sound to spill for from him. If his whole body hadn't locked up like that he might've done something about the way it all goes straight to his stomach and beyond, but luckily that's not the case and Rhys is spared that embarrassment.

The state of his pants might be a little less than desirable when Crowley pulls back. It's both sobering and very uncomfortable and drags a pained grunt out of him as the fangs leave his skin none-too-gently, and finally Rhys's gaze drops to the man beneath him in utter incomprehension, mouth agape. He says something about bloodsucking and all he can think is oh, he bit me and then there's a hand on his chest and his...pants are just. All sorts of uncomfortable right now and Rhys still hasn't processed entirely that Crowley made a snack out of him instead of "getting it on."

So yeah. Definitely still alive, definitely still not processing this situation all that efficiently. ]

Yuh....youuu, you bit me. [ Someone give this man a genius award. His voice literally warbled and cracked saying that. ]

[ Crowley is never going to sleep with Rhys not being mean just #facts. ]

Yeah. [ Said flatly, in a tone that makes it sound like he's bored. Questions were answered and now Crowley wants nothing more than to wallow in his own self-pity. Even with energy coursing through him now and the fact that he was full, no longer on the verge of death, this sort of physical contact wasn't necessary once everything was done with. ] But it's over, so move off of me.

[ But wait... there's more.

Desperately he wants to ignore the obvious, Rhys is limp but hard at the same time and just a second of contact is more than enough for Crowley's lifetime. ]

You're seriously gross.

[ Look Rhys wants to ignore all this as well alright? Because this is just all sorts of not what he thought it was and he's not even sure what he's supposed to do with this development? Crowley's drawing attention to his very obvious discomfort and if he had the blood for it he'd flush hard. He hasn't lost that much, but it's split between his racing heart and his...yeah. That. Alright??

He's making a sound of disbelief and embarrassment as he claps a hand over his wounds, and they smart appropriately with a throb of pain. ]

Wh--you were the one that...--you called me closer, and then you...! [ What was he supposed to do or think in that situation???? ] It's your fault!

[ But he's pushing himself up quickly, trying to scrounge together some semblance of composure. It doesn't really work. ]

Yeah? [ Not a question, he's fully aware of what he did and how he went about it. Perhaps this scenario could have gone a different direction where Crowley could have bit Rhys' neck, but they unfortunately don't live in that reality. What's done is done. ] I went on a whim, really, something was telling me that biting would help me so... it's only logical that I get you closer so I can.

[ It's just?? common sense. ]

I didn't do anything. You're just a freak.

You bit me, and I'm the--? [ That's not how that works at all, how rude?? Rhys is a victim of circumstance here, primarily Crowley;s mouth circumstances. Because he's pretty sure the fact that he nearly got off on being bitten and having his blood sucked out of him is not something he's generally into. Guaranteed if someone else tried it, it would not give him his current problem. ]

You did this! Not me.

[ Nothing is Crowley's fault and it's all Rhys' for being a loser. This isn't even an opinion just facts. ]

You're the one that liked it a little too much, right? Then it's definitely your fault. Don't go pushing the blame on me just because you're easily aroused.

[ That being said. ]

I can feel it, so do you mind getting off?

Ohhhh my gh--you are the literal worst friend ever, you know that?? What if--oh gods, what if you infected me?? And now I'm going to die and bite people??

[ THIS FACT ONLY JUST NOW OCCURS TO HIM as he hurriedly pushes himself up proper and moves off of Crowley and his bed forever. His hand clamps back over the bleeding puncture marks which have naturally ruined his very-expensive shirt. Awesome :c ]

[ He shrugs his shoulders casually, as if all those wonderful questions Rhys had every reason to be anxious about were on the bottom of his list of worries. ]

I don't know. I guess then we'd both be bloodsuckers. [ Drinking human blood. Starving if they refused and their bodies rejecting everything else.

He wonders what else about his body had changed. ]

But when it happened to me it was instant, probably just a few seconds later and my entire body was on fire. You should be fine unless you're experiencing that.

No, I'm...not. That's good right? [ he's got an uncomfortable boner but that's flagging pretty quickly with all this judgment and mortification he's feeling right now. Not exactly sexy. ]

Yeah. Okay, sooo not gonna be a bloodsucker, that's good. You're still a total ass, like--you made it seem! Like...like that.

You suck, and I guess that's in all ways now.

[ Crowley nods slowly, as if to help Rhys understand that he's fine and he won't be turning into... whatever the hell he is. A bloodsucker? A night dweller? He leave the doctors to figure that one out. ]

Like that? [ He glances elsewhere, feigning innocence as a smile appears on his lips. ] I'm not interested in sex, nor am I interested in having sex with you, [ Just throwing that last part out there. ] I was just hungry. Don't sound so grumpy about it, you helped me survive.

[ a bro helping a bro out a total broship ]

Haha. Your jokes suck, too.

I wasn't meaning--I didn't mean s-sse...sex. Okay? [ He's an adult, he can word.

Rhys also just blurts out he thought maybe there was something a little more emotionally intimate about this which clearly there isn't, and now he's considering rethinking the depth of their friendship. Because wow Crowley, wow. ]

And and I can be as upset about it as I want! You bit me and used me like food. That's...gross. [ especially in his pants :c those were dry-cleaned recently. ]

What else is 'that' supposed to mean?

[ Call Crowley a fool, but in his defense his mind just blocks out romance and the possibility of him falling for someone. All of his relationships are shallow enough that an ant could swim through it. Questioning it now was just Rhys finally seeing the light--

But already know that he's not going anywhere so boohoo. ]

Gross? We kill cattle for beef, pigs for pork... what's the difference?

The difference is we're friends. It's not like I'm going to cut a piece out of you for dinner! [ That said, if Crowley ever tries that with him Rhys is outtie in so many ways. He draws the friendship line at cannibalism.

Boner-inducing blood sucking is still in debate right now. Rhys is too embarrassed and flustered to make a friendship call on that ~~but we all know how that ends anyway so~~ ]

That's right, we're friends, so I don't see you as food. [ Maaaaan when those memories kick back Rhys is gonna Die. ] But I need you.

[ Need. It's such a pathetic word but Crowley realizes that he'll have to use it in order to survive. The simplicity of living has left him and now he requires other measures, other necessities, to live and see the next day. He'll need blood, from who is the most important obstacle he and his family will have to discuss if they still wanted to bother keeping him. ]

You're going to keep this a secret. [ Another order. ] And for now, maybe just one more time, I'll need blood from you.

[ All he ever had to say was "need."

Rhys has never been needed in his life before. The Nine, his family, his parents have never really required him for anything. There's the cursory "being an heir" to his parents' wealth and land sure, but beyond that? Nothing. He barely speaks to them, sees them even less. For anyone to actually want him around or need him strikes a chord so deep inside Rhys's chest he almost forgives Crowley for everything there on the spot. He wants to forgive him. To help out however he can.

So when the orders come Rhys finds himself nodding dumbly, surprise still written in his features as his faintly-bloody hand falls away from his neck. ]

How...how soon? [ he croaks out, throat dry. ]

Edited 2017-02-12 10:01 (UTC)

[ Genuinely speaking Crowley using Rhys for this purpose shouldn't be all that surprising, nor should he ever be forgiven for dragging someone in and biting without any sense of warning. At least that's what he believes. But he expects him to stay, because despite the minor (major) details of their relationship the day they permanently leave each other to rot seems far off. ]

Well you know what happens after three days. [ Now. ] I don't know what my family is going to do about all of this, so... [ He shrugs his shoulders. ] Just stay here for a little bit until they figure out whether or not they wanna kick me out or something. I bet they'll wanna question you since you've got first hand experience.

Besides, you're not that busy are you?

[ He can't not be an asshole for more than five seconds sorry. ]

I technically have a job now you know... [ But that's not exactly Rhys saying no either. He doesn't look very opposed to the idea, just uncomfortable and uncertain what to do. Of course given the choice now he thinks, it might not be too bad to give him a little more. Preferrably drawn with needles instead of fangs, but if Crowley asks like he had earlier he's very doubtful he could say no.

Especially after how it feels.

Rhys finds himself swallowing thickly at the thought. ]

I--sh, should be able to work something out. Probably.

[ Pieces click together and everything is arranged in a way that it fits perfectly. Honestly Crowley was only a tad bit confident that things would work out so smoothly, this entire idea coming last minute, but now he breathes a small sound of relief as his eyes soften.

He doesn't like relying on people. He doesn't like having to rely on Rhys either considering that the reaction to anything he does is never short from a huge explosion. It's tiring, to be honest, but he's glad to have found answers and how he will be able to live--blood, he'll continue to drink blood and survive in order to find the person who did this to him.

What will happen then? ... That can be saved for another day. ]

You'll find time for me. [ He says, leaning back against the headboard of his bed. ] I mean, you already did just to come all the way here.

Well yeah because you made it sound like you were dying, which is...s-sort of accurate. I guess. [ Rhys squints a little and tries to straighten his hair out, but that means he also accidentally runs his bloody hand through his hair and when he realizes he makes a sound of disgust. ]

--Ugh, are you kidding me?? That's--ugh. If I'm staying, you're letting me use your shower.

[ Crowley can only give Rhys that blank, empty stare accompanied with a chilling smile at that first half. He was dying and despite being well now it's still nothing he wishes to joke about now--too soon, man. ]

You're so gross.

[ Crowley decides to move out of his bed, having been ridden there for days straight leaving his legs aching to move. ]

Go ahead, just don't leave it a mess or I'll have you clean it for the next ten years of your life. [ Is he joking? Is he serious? Who knows it's Crowley, Rhys' apparent best friend in the Quad and honestly probably his worst decision. Or at least in the list of all his bad decisions. ] And I'll go tell my family that I'm no longer knocking at death's door, I'm sure they'll be overjoyed.

Haha, very funny. I don't so manual labour, you know that. [ This is Rhys being dismissive and much less frazzled, because if anything can pull him out of that it's his sense of vanity. The fact that he just smeared his own blood in his hair takes greater priority than boner-bites. And family matters.

Mostly because his own family matters very little to him. ]

Have fun telling your folks you suck?

Pre-Game catchall stuff

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HAAAAAAAAAAA i see what you did there

BWOOOOOOOOOOM BWOOOOOOOOM

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