The Ripper

William Jack Holloway

William had always remained entirely oblivious to the way that Sebastian may have returned such affections for the Duke. Where Sebastian had displayed restraint in acting on those feelings with William, he had only seen disinterest. William alone had been knowledgeable to the sheer amount of people that Sebastian had lured into his less than chaste antics. There seemed to be little boundaries to what the Earl would do when lust was fueling him, and yet touching William had never been one of them. Or rather, they touched, but it was never in the way that William had so longed for. There had been that one time. Just that once. William had confessed to not knowing how to kiss to his best friend. He was courting a Countess - something his father had insisted on - and it would be expected, would it not? He had been surprised - and delighted - when that had resulted in the Earl's lips on William's, teaching him just how to kiss over and over again. It had been William's first kiss, and yet undeniably one that would not compare to any other kiss he'd had in the two hundred years that had followed. Well, save for the kiss the two of them had shared within that alleyway.

William had spent all those years thinking that Sebastian had never wanted him. Realizing the opposite was enthralling, even if he couldn't act upon it. He'd yet to find out who it was that held Sebastian's heart, though truly, the Hunter didn't care. It was easier like this to not have a face or a name to put to the mysterious person. If there was no face or name, then William had no way to feel guilty for the way he pressed those boundaries. He was so aware of the naked form of his best friend pressing so close to him, and how he longed to touch and let his lips travel throughout the panes of his best friend's body. But there was that fear that kept him so still. What if Sebastian pushed him away? What if he further wrecked their friendship with his confessions? He was certain, as Sebastian's tongue traced along his skin, that he was only doing this because of the blood.

Still, even that assurance didn't stop the look of surprise as he was pushed flat on his back and his shirt was unbuttoned. The very action stole any composure from the man, and still yet he kept his fingers at his sides on the bed. He would ruin the moment if he touched. He would ruin everything and yet... what if he didn't? What if Sebastian liked his touches and liked his attention and what if Sebastian wanted him to touch him now and he wasn't? The battle waged within William's mind, the Hunter truly unable to make a decision before Sebastian's fingertips came to rest upon the dagger on his hip. The protest that it was silver seemed lost upon the vampire as he pulled it from its sheath and let the bloody weapon free. At the mention of not cleaning his things, William laughed. It was that alone that seemed to relax the Hunter. He lifted those fingers of his, his fingertips trailing down Sebastian's chest. He traced the lines of each muscle, stopping as his fingers traced along the man's hipbone. Was this okay?

He was barely given time to question it before Sebastian's tongue slid out, tracing along the length of the blade that William so cherished. Even the touch of Sebastian's hands on his pants wasn't enough to draw his attention away from that tongue on that silver. "God, Sebastian," William's voice was breathless, and it took considerably more self-control to keep from pressing his entire body against the vampire's and taking whatever it was he wanted. It was that respect for his friend, for his happiness, that kept him restrained to simple hands tracing over Sebastian's chest and waistline. His fingers were careful, never dipping to low, and yet those touches were so more intimate than William had ever thought they might have. "What am I going to do with you?"

Sebastian's fingers on the button of his jeans was almost unnoticed - after all, he didn't want to take his eyes off the vampire and his favored blade - save for the sound of that zipper. In his surprise, William's hand slipped, moving to trail down Sebastian's form to finally find a place on Sebastian's thigh. "S-sorry," William managed, looking up at his companion with wide brown eyes. This. This was the kind of touches that he had only imagined before. It had been the extent of his youthful daydreams. Touches that could only be imagined and dreamed of. William had craved these very touches once upon a time, and now that they were presented to him, he found he had little idea what to do. All those careful lines they'd always held were fading so quickly, and William wasn't sure where to push his luck. Instead, he would let Sebastian - as he always had - decide what would be allowed in these intimate moments.

But darling -- it's only human nature.