Over The Edge [On The Edge Series]

by Kallysten

  He quickly finished washing and stepped out of the shower, slipping on the heavy terrycloth robe hanging over the radiator. Lisa's was hung right next to it, and the brief thought came to him that it might be nice to have one for Leo as well. He would buy one in a few days, maybe, when things settled down and when Brett knew whether Leo spent more time with him and Lisa or in the apartment across the hall.

  When he came out of the bathroom, he hesitated. On his right, the bedroom seemed very inviting, while on his left, the laptop he had left in the living room was reminding him of the work he needed to finish. He'd work better after getting some rest, he decided, and went to lie down on the bed.

  The few minutes of rest he had planned to get, however, turned into full-blown sleep, and he was only awakened hours later by knocking on the door. Disorientated, he stood and glanced at the alarm clock, and was surprised to discover it was a quarter before three. Still half asleep, he went to open the door, tightening the belt of his robe and yawning widely. In his foggy mind, the knocking had one simple explanation: Lisa must have forgotten her key. When he opened the door, however, Leo was standing on the threshold.

  Brett remained where he was, his thoughts still too murky to realize he was blocking the way in. Leo's smile slowly faded until he looked almost hesitant.

  "Sorry I woke you up. I took my break at the end of my shift and ... Lisa had told me to come up. She said she'd join us later."

  Brett's heart jumped in his chest, and in just a second he was fully awake, adrenaline pumping through him and his mouth so dry that he had trouble saying anything.

  "Or I can just go to my own apartment,” Leo said after a few seconds of painful silence.

  The best way Brett knew to answer that was to open the door more widely and step to the side, letting Leo walk in. It was somehow easier to talk when his eyes weren't on Brett anymore.

  "Did you ... have dinner?"

  Leo walked over to the living room as though going to sit on the sofa, but seemed to change his mind and leaned against the back of it instead, looking back at Brett.

  "I didn't, but Lisa gave me some blood packages when I moved in across the hall. I guess it was my ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ gift."

  Without thinking, Brett went into the kitchen. He wasn't avoiding Leo, not at all. He was just getting a glass of water. His mouth was very dry, suddenly. He took a sip, and raised his voice so it would carry to the living room.

  "I'm surprised no customer offered to give you blood."

  "I wasn't sure what the manager would think of that. I'm supposed to be working, after all."

  The answer came from closer than Brett expected it, and he jumped, spilling some water over his hand. When he looked back, Leo was just by the entrance of the kitchen.

  Brett wanted to laugh, but his throat felt even dryer now, and all he managed was a weak chuckle. “Good point. I guess as long as you wait until your shift is over, the manager wouldn't have problems with it. Or maybe the manager will offer you a snack himself."

  * * * *

  Before sitting on the sofa, Leo toed off his shoes. He folded a leg beneath him, trying to get comfortable. Next to him, Brett was sitting very stiffly, so much so that Leo couldn't help but wonder if he truly wanted this. One whiff of his scent was enough to reassure him, however. Lust was only second to nervousness, but fear was just a thread, so faint that Leo ignored it.

  "Give me your wrist,” he asked, holding out his hand.

  Immediately, Brett placed his hand in Leo's, palm up. Leo used his free hand to push the robe sleeve up, revealing Brett's forearm. When his fingers brushed against the pulse point, he could feel the staccato there, as clearly as he could hear it in Brett's heartbeat, but he had a feeling that asking him to calm down would only make things worse. He started to pull Brett's wrist toward his mouth. Brett let him until their eyes met, then blinked and froze.

  "Wait."

  The certainty that Brett had changed his mind rolled over Leo, but disappointment didn't have time to follow.

  "I already have scars on my neck,” Brett continued, his voice trembling a little, although Leo didn't think it was from fear. “You can reopen these, rather than making new scars."

  It made sense, and Leo should have thought about it himself. He wanted to apologize, but instead he said, “I won't take much."

  The tension thickened around Leo, and everything seemed to slow down as he pivoted and threw a leg over Brett's legs. He was a little taller than Brett, and it would probably have been more comfortable for them both if Brett had straddled his thighs instead of the opposite. Next time, maybe, when Brett wasn't so nervous anymore, they would do it that way.

  The light tilt of Brett's head served as a signal, and Leo bent down to lay his mouth over the crook of his neck where he had bitten the previous night. He kissed the healing scars, feeling the wild fluttering against his lips, and pressed his hips forward. His hardening cock met Brett's. The quiet moan that escaped Brett made him pull back and press in again, the friction too small to be anything more than teasing.

  He bit down as slowly as he could make himself, his fangs easily breaking the healing tissue to reopen the bite wounds. Brett's hands closed over his forearms, not to push him away, but to pull him closer, it seemed. When Leo took his first slow, almost lazy pull on his blood, Brett bucked up against him, their cocks pressing together again. Leo would have wanted nothing more than to pull harder, draw more blood faster, but he had to remind himself not to. He had taken blood from Brett too recently to dare take more than a mouthful now.

  Pulling away was difficult, but it was worth it. As soon as Leo drew back, Brett grabbed his face between both his hands and kissed him. Before Leo could retract his fangs, Brett's tongue was there, curling against one fang, then the other, pushing inside Leo's mouth and pulling back, the same way he was pushing up to grind their cocks together.

  They slid sideways onto the couch, Leo twisting their bodies as they fell so that he ended up on top of Brett. They groped and kissed, rubbing again each other until they were both panting. Brett's robe had come undone. His skin was like fire beneath Leo's fingers, his cock throbbing in his hand, and all Leo could think about was getting more contact, feeling Brett, flesh to flesh, from head to toe. It just wasn't going to happen here.

  "You know,” Leo said as he pulled away just enough to speak, “last night I thought this sofa was uncomfortable. It doesn't get any better when you try to do more than sit on it."

  Beneath him, Brett's chest shook with soundless laughter. His nervousness from earlier seemed to have melted away.

  "Well, there happens to be a nice bed just a few feet away."

  Taking the hint, Leo disentangled himself from Brett and stood. The picture he made, lying there, disheveled, breathing heavily, with his open robe framing his body, fanned the flames of need and want coursing through Leo's veins.

  Brett took Leo's proffered hand and stood as well, wavering slightly as he did so. His eyes were half-lidded and burning with desire when he looked at Leo, but the nervousness from earlier was suddenly back in full strength. Leo took the lead and stalked to the bedroom, shedding his shirt, shoes and socks on the way.

  "You've ever done this before?” he threw over his shoulder.

  Brett's voice was right behind him. “I thought I had this morning. And last night, for that matter."

  "Last night was a start, but are you ready for more?"

  Hands on his pants’ buttons, he turned to Brett and watched him step closer to him until they were both standing at the foot of the bed.

  "Lisa asked me the same thing earlier,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “And I couldn't even think about it."

  Completely still now, Leo tried to calm his raging thoughts. “We don't need to do anything more if you don't—"

  The words died in his throat when Brett shrugged out of the robe. He put a hand on his cock. At first Leo thought it was to hide it, but he watched, captivated, as Brett's hand s
lid up and down, in turn revealing and hiding his growing hard-on.

  "I didn't say I didn't want to do this. I want this."

  He punctuated his last word by letting go of his cock and pressing the palm of his hand against the front of Leo's pants.

  The abrupt absence of pressure when Brett pulled away could have made Leo scream in need. He continued to watch, wide-eyed, his mouth suddenly very dry, as Brett climbed onto the bed. Finally, he tired of watching. He couldn't finish undressing fast enough to join Brett.

  They started right where they had stopped on the sofa, except that now they were skin to skin, warm against cool, and Leo wanted to purr at just how good it felt, and at the thought that it was only the beginning.

  "Can I..."

  The words were a caress on Leo's lips, followed by the barest touch of Brett's tongue when he moistened his own lips.

  "Anything."

  Leo leaned on his forearm to take his weight off Brett and waited, wondering what it was that Brett thought he needed to ask permission for, now that they were naked in the same bed, cock to cock. Nothing could have prepared him for the hand that traveled from his ass and up his back, over his shoulder, slow fingers dancing up his neck to finally end at his jaw. He cut down his movements to a minimum—he couldn't just stop sliding his cock against Brett's, that was beyond him at that moment—and closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the ghosting touch.

  The caress followed his jaw down to his chin then back up, drifting to his cheek. The questing fingers hesitated when they reached the tip of his nose, then slid down to his lips, one single digit tracing his mouth. Leo couldn't help but flick his tongue against that finger, and there was another hesitation as it lingered at the seam of Leo's lips, before finally gently pushing in. Leo wrapped his tongue around it, smiling a little at the thought of doing the same thing to Brett's cock. Apparently, Brett shared his fantasy, since Brett suddenly took a deeper breath and bucked up, pressing their cocks harder together. The finger retreated and returned to its exploration of Leo's face, now mapping out the edge of his nose, delicately brushing against his lowered eyelashes before following the curve of one eyebrow, then the other. The fingers slid back, threading into Leo's hair and cupping his skull, pulling him forward to meet Brett's kiss again.

  With some surprise, Leo realized he was trembling with need. He couldn't remember the last time a lover had taken the time to touch him like this, to learn his features and the contours of his face. It felt more erotic than he could have thought possible.

  "Want you,” he murmured, nipping at Brett's bottom lip. “Now."

  The tremor that his words elicited was answer enough. Brett protested with an indistinct groan when Leo raised himself to his knees, severing the contact between them, but Leo appeased him with a shushing whisper. The tube of lubricant was in the nightstand drawer, right where Leo had found it the previous night. He didn't have the presence of mind to wonder who had returned it there, Brett or Lisa. He flicked the cap open with his thumb and squeezed a small amount of lube onto his fingers. Brett practically arched off the bed when Leo enveloped his cock, twisting his hand as he ran it up and down to spread the lube and make the motion that much easier.

  It was difficult to choose where to look. Brett had closed his eyes and was biting down on his bottom lip. His fists closed on the bunched up sheets as tightly as Leo's hand on his cock. Slowly and teasingly, he drew up one of his knees until his foot was flat on the bed, exposing new places for Leo's fingers to explore: heavy balls that he fondled, one after the other, before sliding to the sensitive skin hiding behind them. Brett became very still suddenly, clearly enjoying Leo's touch, but also just as obviously waiting for what came next with some trepidation. He never noticed that Leo's other hand had been anything but idle, lubing and preparing, although not the way Brett expected.

  The look of shock on Brett's face when, in one fluid movement, Leo straddled him and positioned himself above his slippery cock was almost as erotic as the simple feel of him when Leo bore down. He paused right there, with just the head of Brett's cock in him, and waited. It wasn't easy for him; he wanted nothing more than to finally, finally sink down and take Brett inside, just as deeply as when he had bit down and taken his blood. Poised and shaking, he waited for Brett's eyes to focus on him again. When they did, when Brett looked at him with that mix of surprise, and awe, and now, Leo thrust down. The single slow, smooth stroke let him feel every inch of flesh stretching his body and emptied his mind of everything that wasn't Brett. Everything that wasn't them.

  He began raising and lowering himself onto Brett's cock, slow enough at first to make Brett twitch beneath him and raise up to meet him. Encouraged by that reaction, Leo began accelerating his tempo. Judging by Brett's heartbeat, by the overwhelming scent of raw desire coming from him, by his dilated pupils, he wouldn't last long. Leo didn't mind; it was only the first of many times, and Brett would learn—

  Brett was learning. It was his turn to surprise Leo, with a shaky and yet firm hand on his cock, pumping to the same pace as Leo's hips. Meanwhile, his left hand explored Leo's abs and chest, scratching and pinching flat nipples that tightened the same way his balls did, drawing up, until the pressure and heat both inside and outside, Brett's cock and his hand, became too much. One last time, he thrust himself down. His orgasm crashed over him, fast and blinding. All he could see was Brett looking wide-eyed at his come-stained fingers, the same fingers he brought to his lips for a tentative lick. Even spent, Leo couldn't help but buck again, and again, and one more time, and pull Brett into bliss along with him before he collapsed onto his chest.

  Brett wheezed out, laughing, and they rolled together onto their sides.

  "Sorry ‘bout that,” Leo breathed.

  Brett chuckled a little more. “Please. Feel free to repeat any of that any time you want."

  His eyes were sparkling with pleasure still, but also sheer enjoyment. He leaned forward to kiss Leo, ending with a quick nip at his lips. Leo tried to deepen the kiss, but Brett was slipping away and out of bed already—although, Leo noted with a hint of pride, his steps didn't seem too steady. He lay down on his side, looking down toward the door and listening. Quiet steps. Water sounds. The flick of the living-room light, and darkness. More slow steps, hesitating at the foot of the bed, then coming in by Leo's back. He smiled, and waited for Brett's arm to drape over him.

  * * * *

  The night was quiet around Lisa, quiet as the city only became in the small hours of morning. Night owls were tucked in at this time, and early risers weren't awake yet, leaving the streets of Haventown silent and deserted save for a few people like her making their way home at the end of a long night.

  Her second prey for the night had invited her home when the club had closed its doors, and she had accepted the offer to give Leo and Brett more time. She and her new prey had been at a table when Leo had left the club half an hour before closing, and they had still been talking when he had returned, ten minutes later, and gone up to the apartment above the club. If she had joined them then, Lisa was sure her two lovers would have turned their attention to her—not unpleasant in the least, but she wanted them to get more comfortable with each other.

  To her prey's initial dismay, all she had done when they had reached his apartment was take blood from him. She had purposefully bitten down on a small vein and taken small pulls on his blood for a long time, stopping every now and then to talk to him and give him directions. Pleasure always made blood sweeter, and she always enjoyed a nice show. She had left him still shaking and moaning incoherently, a blissful expression on his features, and while she had taken her fill of blood, a different kind of hunger was now pulling her back to Brett's apartment. She had given him and Leo plenty of time to play and rest. She hoped they were ready for her.

  Caught in her anticipation of what was to come, she didn't pay attention to the prickling at the base of her skull that always warned her she was being watched, and the voice calling out from beh
ind her took her by surprise.

  "Looking for one Childe, and here I find the other. What a coincidence."

  She froze mid-step, all thoughts knocked out of her. She knew that voice and the dry irony coloring it, and she would have been happy never to have heard them again. Slowly, she turned on her heel to face Nicholas and made a conscious effort to relax her body. All her muscles were tense, as though waiting for a blow, and he knew her well enough to notice. She didn't want to appear on the defensive; Nicholas would interpret that as a sign of weakness, and try to exploit it as much as possible.

  "Hello, Nicholas,” she said as calmly as she could manage.

  He came closer to her, his steps echoing in the narrow street. It had been decades since she had last seen him, since he had left one night and never returned, but he was exactly as she remembered him, down to the black clothes and oversized coat he wore. She remembered an old lesson, when she had been only a few nights old—"Black is our color. It makes it easier to hide. Easier to scare humans, too. Deep down, they are as afraid of black as they are of the night, and their blood tastes much better with fear coursing through it."—a lesson she had rejected, along with just about everything Nicholas had ever tried to teach her. The dress she wore now, of a blue as light as she remembered the sky being at midday, was only one proof of how far from him she had drifted.

  "Come on, Beth. Won't you call me Sire? I still am, you know."

  Lisa bit her tongue to stop herself from correcting him about her name. He didn't need to know she had changed it. He didn't need to know anything about her, really, and the sooner this encounter ended, the happier she would be. Despite herself, she glanced behind her. The club was no more than two blocks away. She wished the night hadn't seemed so nice; she would have taken a cab then, rather than deciding to walk home.

  "You're not thinking about leaving me so soon, are you, Childe?” Nicholas was just in front of her now, and he caressed her cheek with his knuckles. “We have much to talk about. Have you given up on your silly idea that you need not kill?"