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English
Series:
Part 13 of Born To The Life
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Luna and Lanna
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Published:
2005-10-02
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1,924
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1/1
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Generations Converge.

Summary:

On the set of Aeon Flux, Marton decides he'd like to get to know Jonny better. A lot better. (Part one of In Flux, followed by Refresher Lessons and Contain and Control)

Notes:

Time element: Current day

Disclaimer: This is a story about vampires. Since we all know vampires don't really exist, then the characters can't be based on real people since those people can't be vampires in a world where such creatures don't exist. We personally don't know anything about these people's lives. Don't care to. In other words, it's fiction, folks, the product of overworked imaginations

Notes: Full character list can be found here. All you need to know to read this chapter is that Marton is everything-except-for-birth brothers with Sean, who is Gerry's father. Gerry turned Jonny. That makes Jonny part of the family, and a "nephew" to Marton.

Work Text:

Marton enjoys being back in Germany. While he loves the castle, there's always been something elemental about hunting in Germany. He isn't hunting now, but this movie business has some of the same thrill. And Gerry's finally let his pet loose, so Marton has Jonny all to himself. It's delicious.

Jonny's nervous. He shouldn't be. It's a film. He's done them before. It's more being in Germany on his own, without Gerry. First time. He's standing on the edge of the set, watching Charlize go through stunt workouts, trying not to fidget too much. Or pay attention to how hungry he's getting.

Marton can smell Jonny's hunger from across the room. He comes up from behind him and whispers in his ear. "Come back to my room after, lad."

"Fuck, don't do that," Jonny mutters, jumping at Marton's whisper. The older vampire still unnerves him, probably always will, not always in a bad way. "Yeah. Sure. Your room."

"Good boy." Marton slides his hand down Jonny's pants and gives him a quick squeeze before moving off.

Jonny jumps again. "Fuck, I wish he'd stop doing that," he mumbles, turning around to watch Marton leave. Then he's called up. "Oh, great. Fucking hard-on and I have to be nice to the bitch." He smiles, moves across the set.

 

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

The rest of the day's uneventful, Jonny managing to make it through rehearsals without screwing up, but he's still hard and fidgeting when he arrives at the flat Marton's using. He takes a deep breath, walks up to the door and knocks.

Marton's been waiting with a bottle of whiskey. He opens the door and stands back. "Welcome to my lair, lad."

Jonny laughs, stepping through the door. "Plan on getting me drunk?" He nods at the bottle.

"Planning on getting myself drunk while propping my feet up on your back." Marton smiles ferally and closes the door behind Jonny. "How would you like that?"

Shrugging out of his jacket, Jonny tosses it aside, shaking his shoulders and working out the crick in his neck. "Gerry say that's okay?"

"Why does it matter?" Marton starts rolling up his sleeves. "He doesn't own you. He just thinks he does."

"Oh. Didn't realize that." Jonny licks his lips. Calm down, boy. Not that hungry. "He tells me I'm his, no one else gets me without permission. That not extend to family?"

"No, it doesn't." Marton triangles his fingers. "Gerry doesn't have any authority to keep you from me."

"And here, we're far away from the castle, from London." Jonny swallows hard. Marton's intoxicating, frightening and exhilarating all at once. "Couldn't really say no if I wanted to."

"No, you couldn't." Marton smiles coldly. "But you don't want to."

"No. Don't want to." Jonny backs himself into a chair. He wants Marton, and he can't deny it. He's been fascinated since first meeting. "Hungry."

"Yes, you are." Marton's smile shows his teeth. "Kneel down right where you are."

Jonny's conditioned, Gerry's training having taken firm hold of his brain, and he drops to his knees. There's nothing graceful about it, but Jonny's hunger is growing and he's not concerned about etiquette.

"That's a good boy." Emphasis on boy. Jonny's still young, he needs an older vampire to look out for him. No wonder he's not feeding. Marton walks over to him, unbuckling his belt. He lets his pants drop, then he presses Jonny's face against his thigh. "You may bite."

His head rubbing against Marton's cock, Jonny licks along the line of artery, the scent of blood coursing through the femoral intense and rich. He wishes he could wait, linger, but the need's been building and he hasn't learned to master it. He bites, his dropping fangs sinking into the skin, cutting through to the artery, the liquid spurting into his mouth, filling him. He sucks hard, greedily, wanting as much as he can get into his throat before Marton pushes him off.

Marton groans, his cock jerking. It's easy enough to close his eyes and imagine that dark-haired man biting him is Peter, but that's too tempting. It's Jonny, and he doesn't know when to pull back. Peter would keep going to push Marton to the limits, but Jonny would do it out of ignorance.

Ignorance and hunger are a deadly combination, and Jonny doesn't know when to stop. His senses are burning from Marton's blood, so ancient, so nourishing, so intoxicating. He raises his hands, lays them on Marton's hips, holds himself steady against the open wound.

When it's getting close to too much, Marton starts pulling Jonny's head gently away. "Stop," he murmurs. "Right now, Jonny."

Jonny leans back, letting Marton pull his head. His mouth is dripping with blood and his eyes are glazed over, still working through the rush of ancient blood. "So good," he mutters, almost incoherent. "Thank you, Uncle Marton."

"You're welcome, nephew." Marton crouches down and licks the blood off Jonny's face.

The licking shivers Jonny, shudders along his spine and slams into his cock. "Oh, fuck. Please."

The taste of his blood on somebody else's skin is always intoxicating. Marton kisses Jonny hard, pressing him down backwards into the carpet.

Jonny falls backward, body pressed into the carpet, legs stretched out under Marton's. He pulls his hands up from the floor, slides them over Marton's shoulders. Shouldn't want it. Should be a good boy and call Gerry, ask permission. Shouldn't I? No time, happening too fast. That's what he'll tell himself. Later.

Marton follows Jonny all the way down, kissing him hard. He's rubbing his cock hard against Jonny's thigh, can feel Jonny's cock pushing up. He breaks the kiss to grab Jonny's arms and pin his wrists above his head, then he's back to kissing those tempting lips.

"Oh, hell, yes," Jonny mumbles, words trapped by Marton's mouth. He really likes being pinned down. Major turn-on. And held. He pushes up as much as he can, grinding his cock against Marton's thigh, begging as much as he can without real words.

Vampire speed is good for a lot of things. In this case, it lets Marton yank Jonny's pants down and turn him over before Jonny knows what's happened to him. Marton spreads Jonny's legs and shoves his cock in hard. Jonny can take it. And if he can't, he'll learn to.

Jonny's first reaction, the only one he has time for, is to scream. There's nothing fake about it. Marton's hurting him. But he knows he needs to take it, knows he can, thanks to the vampire transition. His hands are still above his head and he's clawing against the carpet, not to get away but to brace himself, push back, take as Marton gives.

It's the best reaction. Marton gives Jonny a few more harsh thrusts, then slides his fangs into Jonny's throat and starts to suck.

"Damnfuckhell." Jonny screams louder, Marton ripping him open with cock and fang, and all he wants to do is beg for more.

Marton can feel the scream through his teeth, in the taste of Jonny's blood. He moans, fucking Jonny harder, sucking at the bite marks. He can make this last as long as he wants it to.

Jonny doesn't want it to end. His body goes limp, soaking in every bruise Marton's making, every shard of pain. "More," he screams into the carpet. "Need. Want. Hurt."

There is it. Marton grins. The lad's family, that proves it. He keeps the pace hard, so hard it hurts him, but doesn't drain too much blood. Jonny can't take it. Maybe in a hundred years.

It takes several minutes, but Jonny gradually starts to feel the loss of blood, his head light and his thoughts jumbled. He trusts Marton to stop before he's drained. Even that would be tempting Gerry's benevolence too much.

Once it starts getting too much, Marton closes over the bite, and devotes all his energy to fucking Jonny. He wants Jonny to come as many times as he can.

Jonny's cock is trapped, rubbing against the carpet, friction burning his flesh, dragging him closer and closer to coming. He just needs something, that extra push. Waiting on permission? Don't need it. You're not his slave. Jonny shakes his head, pushes back, slamming his arse into Marton's cock.

Marton screams, then thrusts as hard he can. So fucking good. He comes hard inside Jonny, but keeps fucking him.

That's it. Enough. Marton filling him slams Jonny over the edge and he humps into the carpet, coming, his cock wedged tight.

Fuck, that's the best sensation in the world. Marton digs his fingers into the carpet, holding on tight.

Jonny's barely coherent, way beyond functioning, and Marton's weight is comforting, an insulation. He whimpers, moans, mutters a few nonsensical words, wriggling his cock down as he rides through the last of the orgasm.

While Marton would love to keep fucking Jonny raw, they do need to keep with the shooting schedule, and he doesn't know how fast Jonny heals. He fucks Jonny until a second orgasm, then pulls back, spitting blood.

At that point, Jonny's in real pain, intensely aching and his cock too sensitive. He turns over slowly as Marton pulls off him, his fangs cutting into his lips where he's forgotten to hold back. "Hungry again," he mutters. "Take me hunting?"

"Of course I will." Marton smiles down at him, then leans forward and licks the bit of blood of Jonny's lips. "Once you're fit to go outside."

"There you go again," Jonny says, squirming, "licking my lips and I'll wanna come again. Need shower, sleep."

"Yes, you do." Marton brushes Jonny's hair out of his face. "You get into the shower and I'll find you dinner."

"Yes, sir." Jonny smiles. "Glad you're here. Might actually make it through filming."

"You better." Marton smirks. "I'm nowhere near done with you."

Jonny pushes up on his elbows. "What you have in mind? Sir."

Marton sits down on the chair across from Jonny. "Sex, drugs, and rock and roll. Why, were you planning something different?"

"Nah. Sounds great to me." Jonny stretches out his legs, staying on the floor, not quite ready to move more than that. "You're not what I expected. Gerry wasn't real sure about me taking this film."

Marton snorts. "Gerry's overly protective. You may be a baby, but Uncle Marton's going to be here to take care of you."

"Don't like being a baby." It's not exactly a pout on Jonny's face. Not really. He's still getting used to being a vampire, won't be out of the 'baby' phase for years, from what they keep telling him. "Don't mind being taken care of, though, 'specially not the way you guys do it."

"We have lots of practice taking care of babies." Marton smirks. "And I'm sure it'll grow on you. Colin's still trailing pacifiers."

Jonny laughs at the image. "Colin sucking on a pacifier. Great visual. Makes me feel better about sucking me thumb."

"It's great practice for other things." Marton lets his fangs down and he licks the ends of them. "I'll have Colin fly over and give you a blowjob."

"Would rather give him one." Jonny blurts it out without much thought, blushes a faint pink at the admission. He pushes himself up off the floor, stands. "I think I'm gonna take that shower, while I'm still thinking randomly straight."

Marton nods. "You do that." He gives Jonny one last look over. Yes, the boy'll do nicely. Gerry does have such good taste in humans.

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