Hold On Until It's Over

Ford was unable to even laugh at those words when they were said so seriously and when he felt the same way and it was just as unusual for him to feel that way.

"I uh... I have to finish up my games," Ford finally said when he could push away the mental images of how he imagined Makoto might feel on top and inside of him. They were making his body ache so badly that he wondered how the hell he was going to even concentrate on finishing up the games and counting the winnings for the night.

Nipping gently at Ford's earlobe and watching the bead of blood that welled up there, Makoto reluctantly licked it clean before stepping back, hands sliding back to settle on Ford's hips until he was sure the other man was okay to support himself and stand on his own. Reaching up after a moment, he brushed the back of his knuckles over the soft skin of Ford's cheek, meeting bright blue eyes with his own dark ones.

"Will you wait?" Ford found himself asking when Makoto said nothing, though his look said everything. He was finding it impossible to look away from the deep brown of Makoto's eyes. He felt like an idiotic schoolgirl trying to make a date with the football captain and kind of wanted to kick himself for that comparison when he was anything but a useless schoolgirl. Raised in a life of crime, he could definitely hold his own against a lot of people, especially when he had his precious guns with him.

Knowing he shouldn't wait, that he should leave Ford now and disappear into the night – in a less melodramatic way than that sounded – he still somehow found himself nodding at the question.

"I'll wait."

Exhaling a slow breath, Ford managed a small smile at Makoto's words, wondering how on earth he'd managed to become so stupid for someone he'd barely met twice that he was nearly hanging on tenterhooks waiting for his answer.

"I'll meet you out front... it'll probably be an hour or so, if there are things you need to do," Ford said, even as he reluctantly extricated himself from Makoto's hold and made his way to the heavy metal door that led back into the pub's back room.

"Alright," Makoto said softly, dark eyes never leaving Ford as he watched the man move to the door. He looked so classy, his suit deceiving in the powerful muscles Makoto had felt underneath it, and he was eager to strip it off one piece at a time in order to touch and taste all of that hidden power. "Please... don't forget to eat something, I took a little bit more than I intended to and you'll need the energy."

A small smile fluttered around Ford's lips at those words, the concern behind them doing funny things in his chest that he had no right to be feeling for someone he'd just met, even if Makoto had admitted to having strong feelings for him. Lust and bloodlust weren't love, and while Ford wasn't stupid enough to try and hold out for a fairy-tale ending, he also wasn't sure it was a smart idea to be falling for someone who would most likely leave him behind when he started to get too old.

"I will. Go on, I'll see you later," he added, tugging the door open and allowing himself one last greedy look at Makoto before slipping inside and heading right to the pub's normally busy kitchen to find something to eat.

Makoto found himself staring at the closed door for a long moment after Ford had disappeared behind it, though he still couldn't figure out why he felt this pull for the other man who was so much younger than him in age, if not necessarily in experience. Shaking away strange thoughts that were trying to rise up to the surface, he turned away from the door and headed back out of the alley, deciding to find another meal. He hadn't taken his normal amount from Ford, not wanting to hurt him or incapacitate him, and if he didn't feed again now, he'd have to sneak out long before sunrise in order to find someone later.

While he wasn't optimistic enough to think that Ford would allow him to spend the night, it was always better to err on the side of caution when it came to being hungry.

It was a strange feeling, being led through Ford's base by the other man, all of the nosy lackeys peeking around corners to catch a glimpse of him. He had the feeling that Ford was struggling to not roll his eyes, his face smooth and unreadable except for the expressiveness of his brilliant blue eyes that seemed to give away his every thought if you knew how to read them.

When the bedroom door closed behind them, Makoto watched the tension leak out of Ford's shoulders and the blond man finally gave in and gave him a small smile.

"Sorry about that... You're the first person I've brought home in years, they're just curious," he explained as he shrugged out of his suit jacket and moved to hang it up in an impeccably organized closet that had Makoto's lips lifting a bit as he wondered if Ford would stop during foreplay to fold the clothes they'd removed.

It was then that Ford's words actually sunk in and he blinked a bit before speaking his thoughts, too startled to stop himself. "Do you normally go someplace else? It can't possibly have been years since you last... indulged."

Ford snorted softly at that, loosening his tie and making his way back to where Makoto was standing, looking every inch the badass vampire in his long black duster, thick dark hair almost brushing his shoulders. "No, I don't normally do one night stands at all. The last time I had a boyfriend... lover, whatever, I was twenty-one and still just second-in-command. I've never been that good with being social and picking people up, and apparently I'm not that good in bed, since that relationship was very short-lived once we actually moved things to the bedroom."

Makoto found his eyebrows rising in surprise at Ford's words, not just because he'd been celibate so long, but because of the way he viewed his own sexuality. "I find that hard to believe," he said, unable to do anything but voice his thoughts even as he reached out and tugged Ford closer, hand curling around his tie and undoing it in lazy motions as he spoke.

"If your lover left you so quickly, it was probably due to his own inadequacies rather than yours. Someone so deliciously responsive can't possibly be bad if their partner takes the proper time to pull reactions from them," Makoto continued as he tugged Ford's tie free and dropping it to the ground, laughing softly as Ford almost twitched predictably with the urge to pick it up and put it away properly.

Feeling his skin flush from Makoto's words, Ford didn't bother to refute them when it seemed like Makoto wasn't going to believe him anyway. He could only hope that he didn't disappoint the other man, because he wanted this one night to be good for both of them so that he could hold onto this memory.

A soft touch of cool fingers to his cheek had him looking back up to meet Makoto's eyes, pulling him from his almost maudlin inner thoughts.

"Don't look like that, sweetheart. Not tonight," Makoto said softly, fighting against that clench in his chest again at the look on Ford's face. For some reason he wanted to make sure the other man never looked like that, so uncertain and sad, like he was doing something wrong just by being.

Struggling to clear his face of his inner insecurities, Ford inhaled sharply when Makoto's lips touched his, mouth soft and cool against his own. It was nothing like the barely-there brush of lips that Makoto had bestowed upon him when he'd saved his life, instead this was hot and hungry, and yet still strangely sweet, something that Ford hadn't expected at all.

It took him a moment of startled surprise before he started to kiss back, hands coming up to tangle in Makoto's hair, the thick soft strands sliding between his fingers. He'd never been kissed like this before, Makoto's mouth coaxing his own open until the softness of his tongue was brushing against his own and enticing it out until they were tangled together and Ford was beginning to feel a little dizzy.

When Makoto finally pulled away a little reluctantly, he was pleased to see Ford's cheeks high in colour, lips plump and slightly damp as he gasped for air. He looked so pretty and so undone that Makoto wanted more almost right away, desperate to make him look anything but cool and collected like he had earlier in the evening.

"You're so pretty," he murmured softly against Ford's cheek, inhaling the scent of his delicious blood and almost wishing that he hadn't fed from him earlier so that he could do it now. Blood taken during climax was the most delicious over any other blood, heightening the pleasure of orgasm into a loop of feedback that could be dangerous if done too much, creating an addiction that humans would fight to maintain.

It felt weird to be called pretty when he thought of himself as anything but that, but Ford felt it was rather pointless to argue with Makoto over something so small and pointless. He would let the other man boost his ego if that's what he felt like doing. It cost him nothing to allow it.

Cool fingers brushed his skin as Makoto eased the buttons of his dress shirt out of their small holes until his shirt gaped over his chest and he had the sudden urge to hide his body from Makoto's gaze like it might disappoint him in some way. Belly tightening in a confused mix of panic and lust, he pulled away almost without thought, looking away and staring blankly at the crisp sheets on his bed, wondering if he'd made a mistake in bringing Makoto here.

"... Ford?"

Makoto frowned at the look on the other man's face, wondering if he'd done something to scare Ford that would explain this sudden change from the smiling and bright-eyed gang leader to this uncertain and strangely shamed looking young man.

Reaching out with one hand, he touched the curve of Ford's jaw and gently turned his face back towards him, silently begging Ford to meet his eyes.

"What's wrong? You don't have to do this, you know. A word from you and I'm gone, as much as I'd like to stay," Makoto said softly, rubbing his thumb gently over Ford's lower lip. He'd never had to force his attention on anyone in all of his lifetimes, and it was one thing he hated more than anything else. The thought of making Ford do something that he didn't want to do, no matter how much he may have wanted it, it made him feel almost sick inside just considering it.

"It's..." Ford wanted to say that it wasn't that he didn't want this, but how did he voice that perhaps he might want it a little too much? He was twenty-eight years old, and it had been almost a decade since he'd last allowed someone into his bed. Even then, the man he had been with had gone through months of being with Ford before he'd even considered it. So how then did he explain that he wanted Makoto so much that he was willing to ignore his every normal instinct that told him to take things slow and be careful?

"I'm not going to hurt you," Makoto said when Ford didn't continue. "I could... but it's not something I like, nor is it something that I do to people who are undeserving of it."

A tiny smile finally curved Ford's lips at those words, because he found it almost cute that Makoto was so earnest in his desire to make sure he knew that he wouldn't hurt him. Letting out a soft sigh, he finally allowed himself to speak the words that he was sure would have Makoto running for the door. "I'm not worried about you hurting me... physically..." he said, voice barely audible even as he stared at the carpet beneath his feet, almost embarrassed at being so sentimental when they hadn't even known each other for more than a few hours at best.

Swallowing hard at the implication of Ford's words, Makoto didn't speak for a moment or two, Ford's nervous pulse almost as loud as a drumbeat in his ears as he considered the implication of such words.

When he'd returned to find Ford tonight, he had thought it had been a whim, a curiousity to find out more about the man that had called to him so strongly even while dying that he had gone out of his way to not only save his life, but to make sure that he was taken care of properly afterwards as well. Instead, he found himself somehow tangled up in feelings that he hadn't experienced in so long that he'd honestly thought that it was impossible for him to feel anything more than lust for someone anymore.

Gently cupping Ford's face, he leaned in for a soft kiss, the other man's mouth warm against his own. He spoke without pulling back too far, their lips brushing with every word.

"I don't want to hurt you, Ford. I'll do everything in my power to make sure that never happens, even if it means leaving right now, despite the fact that that isn't what either of us wants. I won't tell you pretty lies to make you give me something. I want you, so much that it scares me, and I know it scares you too or we'd already be naked and together."

Ford struggled not to pull away at that, the words so stark and true that it scared him even more. He didn't believe in love at first sight, wasn't even sure that he believed in love any more than the brotherly affection he felt for his boys or his own foster father. And yet something in Makoto had called to him, even when he'd been bleeding to death in an alleyway. He didn't know how to explain it or deal with it, and through all of that, he still wanted Makoto so much that his body all but ached for the want of it.

"I want this," he finally said, lifting his chin the tiniest bit so that he could meet Makoto's eyes with his own, wanting the other man to see the sincerity in his gaze. "I want you."

Relaxing at the truth he read in Ford's eyes, Makoto leaned in and kissed him, gently at first before it quickly dissolved into something hungrier, the urge to be as close to Ford as possible practically burning beneath his skin.

Fumbling inelegantly to get the rest of his shirt buttons undone, Ford let out a small laugh as he finally got it off and let it flutter to the ground, not caring for once when all he wanted was to feel Makoto's skin against his own.

Makoto's hands were cool against his skin, eagerly touching as much of it as he could as fast he could, pushing them towards the bed and falling onto sheets that were as cool against Ford's back as Makoto was against his front. It was so easy to lose himself in the other man's touches, passion flaring and almost burning along his skin in ways that he'd only wished he could feel but that Makoto made seem so natural.

"Makoto," he said softly, voice almost gone as his body arched up, the man's mouth tracing a path across his belly that had him hard and anxious and wanting to be taken right then with no regards at all for the technicalities. Except he wasn't stupid, and he wasn't into pain, especially after a lifetime of receiving it in less than pleasant circumstances. Hands reaching down to gently touch Makoto's now bare shoulders, he struggled to find his voice, as well as the words he needed to say.

"Makoto, please... I don't... I don't have anything..."

Stilling at the soft words, Makoto lifted his head and looked up the expanse of Ford's body, blinking away the lust that fogged his vision to make sense of Ford's breathless words. It made sense that Ford would have nothing on hand, especially if it had been so long, but Makoto had to grimace, wondering if he himself had anything either, when he wasn't really in the habit of just jumping into bed with people.

"Alright... hold on a second, sweetheart," Makoto said, reluctantly pulling away from Ford and climbing off the bed. A cursory check of his own jacket and pants pockets pulled up nothing. As much as he disliked advertising to all of Ford's underlings just what it was that they were doing, he liked the idea of stopping now even less. He also didn't think that the other men were that stupid to think they were up here doing something like playing Scrabble.

Crossing the room to the door after pulling his shirt back on and loosely doing it up, he exited the room quickly and rounded up the first lackey he could find. Within minutes, he was provided with what he needed and he was back in Ford's room, grateful that none of the lackeys had been brave enough to actually say anything.

Shutting the door and twisting the lock into place, he turned back to the bed and stilled, sure that if he still breathed he would have had it taken away by the sight of Ford.

Though he had been gone mere minutes, the other man had managed to wriggle out of his clothes – and folded them all up, which had the corners of Makoto's lips quirking up in amusement – and was laying in the middle of the turned down bed, lightly golden skin almost deliciously reflective against bright white sheets. He still looked nervous, but his body was hard and ready and Makoto wasted no time in crossing the room to be with him, shucking his own shirt and trousers as he moved.

Unable to help himself, he found his hands touching as much of Ford as he could at one time, dropping the condoms and bottle of lube onto the sheets in his eagerness to feel Ford's skin under his calloused palms. It was gratifying to feel Ford arch into his touch, his beautiful blue eyes meeting his own with a look of fascination and neediness there that had Makoto wanting to wipe away any thoughts of the other man's previous lovers.

It was obvious that Ford's previous lovers had been inexperienced and perhaps as young as Ford himself had been at the time, because from the other man's words and self-deprecating thoughts, he obviously had been treated to callous and quick sexual experiences by men who were eager for their own satisfaction with no thought to their partner's.

It made Makoto want to please him all the more, to bring him to heights of passion that he was sure Ford had never experienced merely because he could, and because he was many things, but a selfish lover had never been one of them.

Sliding back down the length of Ford's body and ignoring the man's soft whimpers that demanded he stay where he was and keep kissing him, Makoto ghosted his mouth over the curve of one lean hip, thinking it might be possible for him to never get sick of the way Ford tasted, inside and out.

"Makoto..." Ford said softly, body trembling at the feel of Makoto's hands and mouth. He'd never felt so eager for someone's touch before and it felt almost strange to be so needy, especially for a stranger's touch.

For some reason, Makoto felt his body almost ache at the sound of Ford's voice saying his name like that. Not just his cock, which admittedly he was in a hurry in order to be inside of Ford, but it was like Ford's blood sang to him, a sweet siren song that had him thinking that he might just be a little bit crazy for falling for someone so fast.

While he probably would have been relieved in part to know how closely his thoughts echoed Ford's, he might have been more likely to back off as well if they both thought it was strange and almost dangerous to be doing this with each other with almost no conversations or anything between them on what would happen afterwards.

Twisting a bit when Makoto's mouth stopped on his skin, Ford gently tugged at the other man's thick dark hair, encouraging him to look up and meet his eyes.

Eyes that were dark and unreadable where his own were light and like an open book met his almost pensively, leading Ford to touch his jaw gently with work roughened fingertips.

"We don't have to do this..."

"I want it," Makoto said quickly, before he'd even considered what to say. "I want you."

"But," Ford led softly, seeing that darkness shift in Makoto's eyes to allow a glimpse of the still human soul underneath, showing him that the other man was as perplexed and worried about this unique attraction between them as he was.

"But this is pushing me out of my depth," Makoto admitted, even as he traced absent and gentle patterns on the soft skin of Ford's belly, strangely comfortable where he lay between the other man's legs.