Where No Moonlight Shines by Adoraincerta

1

Read 1

“It’ll be both the first and the last time.”
Maglor nods distractingly with a huge gag in his mouth, unable to pronounce Elrond’s name with his tongue stuck.

“And after tonight you’ll turn me.”

Elrond lowers his body, shortens his distance with Maglor to fewer than an inch, with their foreheads touching and scraping, radiating warmth in this cold night without moonlight.

They are not werewolves and moonlight is harmless, but for security’s sake, it’s a habit to ensure no light, neither from sun nor moon, could pierce through the curtains. Living with vampires for more than a decade, Elrond’s ears have evolved to almost as sensitive, a valuable asset on war fields. But tonight they have other work to do.

Without seeing, he knows Maglor’s wrists are tied to bedposts by himself. His nape is barely supported by a soft flexible pillow, ready to collapse at any moment. Touches exaggerating, Elrond maliciously clamps Maglor’s left nipple, whispering as if there is someone else listening.

“It’s the only safe way to have sex with you, as you instructed.”

The tone of the last syllable goes up, with his strength in hand harder, and unsurprisingly to his satisfaction, Maglor manages a tiny, almost indistinguishable nod before moaning, his voice low and harsh without a drip of blood all day.

It’s a sole play without candle light. In nothing but darkness, Maglor opens his legs with every bit of strength left in him, offers an invitation, both to Elrond’s adulthood and his last day as human.

It’s so tempting that Elrond never has chance to consider deeper, as there is no room for pondering, as he has imagined this day to come a thousand times.

He just goes in directly.

“You know, if you or Maedhros agreed to turn me one day earlier, it doesn’t need to be such a hurry.”

He bites his index finger with no sign of hesitation.

“It’ll be the last time drinking my blood, but not my last drinking yours.”

He cannot sense the twist on Maglor’s pretty face, the face he’s stared for 12 years before biting. But inside the shadows, Maglor wants to refuse the drops of blood more than he wants to refuse any physical invasion from Elrond. There is no room for escape, though. Elrond has ensured it beforehand.

Fresh human blood spills out of a bold vein is something he doesn’t purposefully try to quit but hasn’t swallowed for years, and a sudden rehabilitation isn’t exactly the thing he needs now. Elrond forces him to accept every drip, including those that fell on his jaw: they are first licked to Elrond’s tongue before transmitting to Maglor’s throat.

“You don’t need to feel guilty enjoying drinking it.” Elrond kept his distance again, retreats from Maglor’s body, swings his wrists several times before intruding again.

It is the familiar pain and ecstasy, between the gaps of two goes that Maglor grasps the millisecond to extract from waves of stimulation, to distinguish the taste of blood from the electron caused by constant vibrations futilely. The cock inside him was far more warmer than his cool body temperature could tolerate, with scraping, not soothing. He knows it’s too quick to come, to give in within minutes, but it’s hardly his call. His acts of hints, his syllables of shadiness, all encourages Elrond to step further, until his boundary collapses as if it is due to other’s forces but not his willingness.

Maglor attempts to adjust his posture, as stripped and cuffed to every joint, appearing so sluttish, though Elrond intends the contrary, and pushes out his knees even more.

They exchanges a few kisses among all the messes. Elrond makes sure no cloths on the bed could stay, but the pillows left are now scattered, one of whose feathers leaks from a crack not noticed before, hovering among thick air. His lips as dry as his throat, Elrond licks through the perimeter, bringing out his saliva on the gag, and dropped his own instead. The gag’s choking now, but Maglor sees he wouldn’t be spared any soon.

His elbow couldn’t hold on any spot, pillow too soft. From this perspective, Maglor could vividly sense how his hips are lifted into mid air and shake. His tunnel full of liquid now, though he hasn’t accept any lubricant. He shares the liability for lying here too.

A strand of hair swings around his neck, gets covered by his back and tangles with his own. Elrond laid lower more closely, humid breaths spreading across his chest and makes him shiver. Too much to bear life from human being and he would want to break the cuffs to get a taste of fresh blood if not knowing only imagine it would bring out physical pain. He easily resists the urge picturing how his wounds on both wrists deepened by scraping and pushing, while Elrond stepping across a boundary he never set a clear line for and wouldn’t stop until Maglor acquiesces that his mind is destined to give in as his body would.
He isn’t supposed to feel the trepidation underneath his skin, seething but unlike when exposed to sunlight without protection, an accelerated and exaggerated version of scratching the corners of the eyes by fingernails’ edges. By taking in another mouthful of air it felt cold, so that he realized the seething and burning has extended not only among his skin but also to the oral wall.

His toes curls, and he’s sure bliss and hell would reach him concurrently if Elrond continues. Something needed to be grabbed tight in his hands, and Elrond senses it before he says anything out loud. The cuffs are released, but only slightly, loose enough for him to tear a piece of sheet in the balm, and fleeing to the headboard. Then it is reasonable for Elrond to kneel below his spine, so the only spot for his back to support was his nape, whose other supporting points was Elrond’s cock currently inside him.

It may be humiliating for other vampires, being tied naked by human and appearing so helpless rather than draining their blood from necks. Dizziness soaks with periodical pace like wane and wax of the moon, though Maglor no longer has any mind but to fully accept. So shameful still for him that before Elrond comes and transitorily retreats, his entry flaps hungrily between that short moment.

Vampire’s organism is no different, with blurred view and breathless ribcage, it is mildly distracting than the ones he had millennia ago, if his freezing memory hasn’t become a hyperbole.

If not for continuous scrape, his wounds on the wrists would heal sooner, before Elrond calms himself by a deep breath and releases the shackles in the end. He drops a last kiss on Maglor’s lips and murmurs, “This is the moment.” , after which he bites on Maglor’s forearm.

The taste of blood chokes him, as one who never tries it but smells it occasionally. That’s after he takes in enough to keep it in his system before the turn finishes.

“Your turn now. Please bite me to death.”
It seemed Maglor was even more nervous about it. Yes, he promised Elrond before and they both gave consent as an adult, and it’s so reasonable for Elrond, who has lived with two vampires for almost his entire life to make this decision, and if he wants to keep their lives, it may be the only way.

The list of reasons could go on, but deep inside he still fears anything could go wrong or Elrond may one day regret it. He’s also aware that Elrond is already too familiar with vampires to quit, and if he refuses to turn him at this final moment, Elrond would go on the streets in midnight and find another vampire to do it.

He’d rather the person be himself, so he only hesitates before Elrond could react and bites to the point on his neck he’s so fluent of.

Elrond’s heart stops pumping immediately and his wound begins to heal with a speed only a vampire could have.

After the temporary coma, he expects hyper excitement or anxiety, though Elrond only smiles like the one who fucked him earlier isn’t him. He is dragged into the bathroom for a shower, where they almost have sex again. He only escapes because Elrond says they have so many opportunities later and it is a cozy moment too precious to give up.