Especially the kissing. God, how he adored the kissing. Sweet and tender, passionate with tongue,
open-mouthed ones that were more heated pants than kisses...
There probably wasn’t going to be more kissing of any kind this evening considering the state of his
mouth, Snod thought glumly, slumping against the commode.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Frankie encouraged, wiping Snod’s face down with a damp cloth and
easily carrying him out to the sofa. He wrapped his naked body in a warm blanket, blinking around to
clean up the liquor and their glasses.
Snod sank down into the cushions, staring bleary-eyed at the tall vampire as he sat down beside him.
He watched as he used his nail to break the flesh of his neck, grimacing. “What are you doing?”
“Making sure you don’t have a hangover,” Frankie replied with a smirk, gently wrapping his hand
around the back of Snod’s head, bringing him toward the blood slowly leaking down his collarbone.
Snod was repulsed for a moment, but he remembered how pleasurable it had been to drink from the
vampire before. He also knew how powerful that blood was, and he did feel so wretched. He let
Frankie pull him close, his tongue slowly lapping at the trickle of blood.
Frankie’s eyes fluttered, stroking Snod’s short hair. He smiled, murmuring encouragingly, “Just like
that, Obe.”
Snod could sense a fresh surge of lust burning between them, sucking every last drop that had
dribbled down from the small cut. It was a similar warmth to the alcohol, but this seemed to fill him
up all the way down to his toes. He pressed a hand against Frankie’s face, sliding his fingers up into
his hair as he drank.
Frankie let Snod take all that he wanted, gasping, “God, yes... yes, Obe...”
Snod shivered to hear his name spoken like that, his nausea gone and the painful pulse in his head
fading. He swallowed back one last thick mouthful, tilting his head to press his lips against Frankie’s.
He wasn’t as clean as the vampire, spilling a few drops as they kissed so passionately.
Frankie didn’t seem to mind, letting the blood smear between them as their tongues met, deepening the
kiss. He was touching Snod greedily, pushing the blanket out of his way to track every inch of his
muscled flesh. He nosed against Snod’s jaw, his fangs lightly pressing as he asked breathlessly, “May
I...?”
“Yes,” Snod said, offering himself willingly, inhaling sharply when Frankie bit down. His eyes rolled
back, groaning as the vampire drank. He could feel Frankie getting warmer in his arms, amazed at
