[Oswald’s gaze slides down Jason’s sinewy body with no more apology than he felt after startling him. It’s hungry, but sexless. A wolf assessing a cut of meat.]
Ooh. [He sucks in a breath, his face screwing up in a sympathetic wince. But he doesn’t so much as blink, saliva pooling under his tongue as he tracks a river of diluted blood running down Jason’s leg.] That is quite the juicy one. Who would I be to refuse such generosity?
[Wetting his lips, he slants Jason a look from under raised brows. Seeking permission is a formality, of course. A human custom the vampire is willing to humour, now and again, like clothing. He sheds his three piece suit unceremoniously, tossing his leg brace and compression socks on the floor with the rest. The heavy, syrupy scent perfuming the air is all the invitation the vampire ever needs.
Curling clawed fingers around the edge of the door, Oswald slips into the steam and seals them in. He’s warm and fed, still half hard from the hunt. But not so warm that the water temperature isn’t a shock. Hissing softly, he eases himself under the spray, inch by inch. And once fully under the showerhead, he goes still, letting the water pound his shoulders and drench him thoroughly. His eyes drift shut, expression softening, transported. It feels good to thaw. Nerves stir, muscles tingling as they loosen under his skin. He draws his deepest breath in days, even weeks, and lets it out, lashes fluttering as he slowly comes back to himself.]
...This is nice.
[He says, over the steady slap of water on tile. He sweeps a curtain of hair from his eyes, looking up at Jason.]
Now, where were we? [Sniff.] ...Oh. Right.
[Grinning sideways at his company, Oswald perches on the bench and beckons him over with a crook of his fingers.] Let’s have a closer look at you, shall we?
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Ooh. [He sucks in a breath, his face screwing up in a sympathetic wince. But he doesn’t so much as blink, saliva pooling under his tongue as he tracks a river of diluted blood running down Jason’s leg.] That is quite the juicy one. Who would I be to refuse such generosity?
[Wetting his lips, he slants Jason a look from under raised brows. Seeking permission is a formality, of course. A human custom the vampire is willing to humour, now and again, like clothing. He sheds his three piece suit unceremoniously, tossing his leg brace and compression socks on the floor with the rest. The heavy, syrupy scent perfuming the air is all the invitation the vampire ever needs.
Curling clawed fingers around the edge of the door, Oswald slips into the steam and seals them in. He’s warm and fed, still half hard from the hunt. But not so warm that the water temperature isn’t a shock. Hissing softly, he eases himself under the spray, inch by inch. And once fully under the showerhead, he goes still, letting the water pound his shoulders and drench him thoroughly. His eyes drift shut, expression softening, transported. It feels good to thaw. Nerves stir, muscles tingling as they loosen under his skin. He draws his deepest breath in days, even weeks, and lets it out, lashes fluttering as he slowly comes back to himself.]
...This is nice.
[He says, over the steady slap of water on tile. He sweeps a curtain of hair from his eyes, looking up at Jason.]
Now, where were we? [Sniff.] ...Oh. Right.
[Grinning sideways at his company, Oswald perches on the bench and beckons him over with a crook of his fingers.] Let’s have a closer look at you, shall we?