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Learn How to Fly	By : 18thCenturyTears Category: Anita Blake > Slash Views: 3061 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own the Anita Blake series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Learn How to Fly
- 1
The night was still young as Jean-Claude stood, staring out of the window and upon the starry sky. His pallid skin clashed with the black drapes that had surrounded the pane. He let out a small sigh as his mind began to wonder onto sa petite. It seemed she was becoming more and more distant lately. Granted, he did understand due to all her responsibilities: feeding, caring for her leopards, work, and all the other issues that seemed to pile around her. Even so, the vampire could become lonely at times. True, he did not usually have time to ponder such thoughts. Jean-Claude was always to make sure to keep his people safe, even if his personal life decided to fall into shambles.

Rain pounded against the glass, causing streams upon streams to slide down the pane. Jean-Claude’s long fingers drifted through the ebony gauze when he saw a faint reflection in the window. Midnight blue eyes rolled up to meet the one on the reflection. Those eyes studied that mirrored image, studied the scars in the glass, and
soon Jean-Claude could feel the presence of the other closing in on him. The darker man stiffened slightly as he felt the other reach toward him, tenderly, cautiously, and Jean-Claude heard the man whisper,

“What are these thoughts that you hold, mon ami?” Jean-Claude turned around slowly to face the other, different shades of blue gazing upon the other. Winter skies mixed with pure midnight, love melted with hate, and angst locked with joy. They were dark and light, night and day, shadow and sun, and yet they were one and the same. Jean-Claude gazed upon Asher for some moments before slowly turning back to watch the translucent liquid splattering against the glass. Then, he replied,

“It is nothing.” Next, Jean-Claude could feel Asher’s light touch crawling up his arm.

“I can sense your loneliness. She denies you and you slowly are transforming into an empty shell with a false laughs and illusions of contentment.”

“You should know false illusions are natural for me now.”

“I am aware,” Asher replied, “but there is a difference between what you are now and what you are becoming. I do not wish for you to be like me.” Jean-Claude’s eyes widened slightly at Asher’s statement, and turned back to face him.

“Do you no longer wish for revenge?”

“I am not sure,” the blonde sighed. “Part of me still does, but it also aches me to see the loneliness in your heart. I do realise your ma petite is quite busy, but even with her schedule, it seems she denies you more than she should.” Then, Asher stepped toward the other while he continued his words of worry. “Let me heal some of that despair.” The darker of the two shook his head, uttering,

“I promised ma petite that I would not take you to my bed, not without her knowledge.” Asher lowered his eyes in sorrow, tired of being denied time and time again. Jean-Claude wasn’t the only one who was needing this, needing to fill a lonely spot in a severely broken heart. Suddenly, the vampire took hold of the other and kissed him roughly, his hand clenched tightly in the locks of ebony. When Asher had pulled away from Jean, he whispered against the man’s lips.

“You need this as much as I. Ne pas voler lan, mon merle.”

“Je ne volerai pas,” and with that he closed the distance, pressing living velvet upon living velvet. It seemed ages since Jean-Claude had felt Asher’s touch, and indeed it had been wondrous. Soft, delicate while strong fingers danced along Jean’s jaw line, like a whisper of a chill winter wind on a mild autumn day, His own digits explored the tresses of the fine, silken strands of gold. He twirled the hair around his fingers as his mind recalled times past. Of times of sitting in front of roaring fire while crickets chirped their lullabies, creating a natural sonata. Jean-Claude felt his back pressed up against the cool glass, Asher’s hands in each side of him. The vampire leaned into him, deepening the kiss. When the kiss was complete, Jean-Claude gazed into the icy blue abyss and purred,

“You are cold to the touch, mon chardonnet. You have not yet fed.”

“Je nourrirai de votre amour,” and with that, he kissed the darker one as his hands crawled up the pallid chest, the tips of his fingers brushing the pink of his nipples, causing them to erect. Asher settled himself into Jean-Claude’s lap, and the blonde smirked. “You definitely have fed, and it is not only the heat of your flesh that betrays you.” Asher would never admit it out loud, but he had longed to touch his old lover for years even through all the hatred, through all the lust for revenge. Next, Asher began to kiss along Jean-Claude’s neck. The blonde vampire could smell the stolen blood. Yes, he knew full well the blood would not sustain him, but it could still hold its exquisite taste, much like the fine wine of the olden days.

“I have missed this,” Jean-Claude uttered as Asher began to open the shirt, continuing his trail of sweet kisses along that perfect body. Asher gazed upon it for some time before rolling his eyes to the other’s, flipping his hair so that it covered the scarred imperfections.

“I cannot. Not when you have already known when I was full, complete,” and with that, Asher got to his feet, trying to leave his past behind him once more. However, a firm hand grabbed his wrist. Siberian eyes rolled down to peer upon fingers clasped upon him.

“You will always be beautiful to me for the heart sees in more ways than the eyes can ever hope.” Then, Jean-Claude slowly started unbuttoning the other’s shirt, showing a bit if heaven and hell at the same time, but this hell was so beautiful. Jean-Claude placed his lips upon the marred flesh, and moments later, a tongue danced along Asher’s chest, exploring all the rivets the holy water had created. When Jean-Claude had looked back up, he could see a single blood tear streaming down the vampire’s face. The darker of the two licked it up and breathed,

“Ne pas pleurer pour moi. Votre sang est troup précieux pour perdre.”

“Forget about blood, mon merle. Vous avez pris déjà mon âme,” and with that, a series of crimson tears fell, and Jean-Claude felt obliged to kiss those tears away.

“Asher, you realise we may not be able to do this again?”

“Yes, I do realise that. I thought about it, and I would lose another piece of my soul to save yours.” Then, Asher pulled Jean-Claude on top of him. “Vous me permettre d’épargner.” Then, he pulled on the midnight strands and pressed his lips upon the other’s. Jean-Claude pushed himself closer toward Asher as if he was trying to become one being. He longed to have just flesh underneath him, and it was as if Asher could read his mind for the fair-headed male began to wriggle out of the shirt. Jean-Claude ran his hands over Asher’s chest, feeling a mixture of rough crevices and pallid perfection, soft, angelic. He curled his fingers so that the tips fell into fissures the water had created while his nails cut into the unimpaired flesh. The cuts were shallow and due to the fact that Asher had not fed, they did not bleed. However, that did not stop the blonde from making a sharp cry, a cry of some pain and mostly pleasure.

Once had been in Belle’s court, Asher had become accustomed to some amounts of pain during sex. Belle had adored having Asher as the plaything for sadists since “they could not make him look any worse,” therefore he had gotten used to the pain. Now, he didn’t enjoy large amounts of pain. He could handle it, but he did not enjoy it though; he didn’t fear for Jean-Claude to get out of had. His old lover was only sadistic when the need called for it, which, in Asher’s eyes, wasn’t true sadism. Not that he was complaining. Suddenly, the man was brought out of his thoughts as he felt a hard tug on his hair. The pale eyes rolled up to gaze upon the other. All was still. Jean-Claude had stopped everything after the awakening pull, and it felt as if Asher himself was ensnared by the vampire’s gaze. Of course, that was ludicrous. Jean-Claude could not capture another vampire, especially not one as old as Asher. Not with his eyes, but with his heart.

You captured me as well. Asher’s eyes widened slightly. He had not meant to be heard. How could he still love him? How could he still care for him? He was supposed to hate him. He was not supposed to forgive the man who had let his Juliana die, but it had been so much easier to hold a grudge when he had been all the way in France. So much easier when Asher did not have to look into those midnight eyes that drowned with a passion, a sorrow, a love, a loss, a darker reflection of what his own eyes held. Then, Asher pressed his lips upon the other’s and whispered,

“Let us either fly, or let us both fall.”

“I’d fly into Heaven with you and fall through a burning fire.”

“A la vie.”

“A la vie,” and Jean-Claude deepened the kiss Asher had started earlier, and soon he was kissing along the man’s neck, tasting a mixture of salt and his own savouries, a taste of slight spice. Saffron. He tasted of saffron. Jean-Claude could feel Asher’s hand running up along his sides, his fingers wrapped around to caress his back. The blonde shivered as a tongue ran along his collar bone while his fingers moved from Jean-Claude’s back to stroke the fabric of his shirt.

“You choose the loveliest of fabrics, mon ami, but your flesh is better than any silk.” Jean-Claude smiled and removed the shirt in one fluid movement.

“Is that better?” he asked with a smirk, knowing full well the answer. Cold fingertips ran over his chest, and Jean-Claude’s nipples hardened at the touch. He watched the other for a few moments before he placed his lips upon Asher’s chest, kissing down the lines that blended the beauty with the beast. No, there was no beast. It was all beauty, just of different sorts. Asher was that fallen angel that had become scarred during the fall, but still held that unworldly magnificence. The brunette continued his kissing trail until he reached the top of the man’s breeches. Then, he bit down on the man’s stomach, and Asher let out a small cry of pleasure. Next, he kissed back up the chest and placed another bite upon the scarred flesh, harder this time for the flesh was thicker here. Moments later, Jean-Claude bit the other nipple. This time, Asher let out a louder cry, and when Jean had released his hold, there were two tiny pinpricks on each side of the erected bud. Suddenly, Asher pulled on the ebony locks, forcing the other into a heated kiss, so heated that his fangs pricked Jean-Claude’s lips. A sharp intake of breath, and the blonde was pushing toward the cut. Just because he could not sustain himself on a vampire’s blood did not mean the taste was enjoyable. His tongue lashed out of the wound, tasting the sweet metallic taste before his tongue plunged into the other’s maw, pulling harder on Jean-Claude’s hair, causing the brunette to make a small sound,

Soon, Jean-Claude’s hips were grinding against Asher’s, causing a slight discomfort of friction. Asher lifted his body slightly so that he could allow his tongue to lick along the shell of Jean’s ear. Nails slid down the pallid flesh of the vampire’s back, causing Jean-Claude’s back to arch inward. A smile crept along the blonde’s lips as he watched the other’s reaction before letting his tongue slide into the man’s canal. Jean-Claude’s eyes rolled back while his nails dug into Asher’s flesh for what seemed the hundredth time that night. The man seemed lost as he felt the probing sensation that somehow caused his breathing to become erratic. Jean-Claude’s hips couldn’t help but to buck toward to the other while harsh whisperings escaped his throat.

Finally, Asher pulled away and started to kiss down along the man’s chest. Lips of velvet caressed the chiselled marble of Jean’s stomach, moving over the toned muscle until Asher reached the start of the black pants that covered the other. The blonde placed a final kiss before letting his fingers run over the ebony buttons, letting one of them loose. Asher worked down the row until all five buttons were undone, relieving Jean-Claude of the pressure. The latter shuddered as he felt a tongue crawl up along his member. He smiled and let his tongue swirl around the base and back up along the shaft. Jean-Claude shuddered as he felt that tongue flick across the head just before the blonde took it in. The darker of the two fought the urge to pull down on the gold lock. This was a delicate enough job as it was, and when you added fangs to the picture, it became even more so. Therefore, Jean-Claude clung to the sill behind him as Asher started to make his way down.

“Non,” he gasped. “It would be cruel not to allow you pleasure as well,” and he gently pushed up on the other’s head. “You said you wished to help me escape from the darkening path I was travelling, even though it may make yours darker. At least, let me put what light I can on your own.” Then, Jean got to his own knees and kissed the other tenderly. Asher nodded and hopped up on the window sill, and then, Jean-Claude began to work his magic. The tongue slowly moved along the shaft, licking underneath the head, causing Asher to groan under his breath. Jean-Claude took the appendage into his maw, letting his tongue roll around it. Asher bucked slightly, making Jean pull back so his partner would not be nicked. After the blonde had settled down, Jean-Claude made his way down again, sucking on the soft tissue. Eyes rolled back and soft mutters rolled out into the air, and the brunette coaxed the other off the sill, letting his hands trails down the back, feeling a trickle amount of scarred flesh. Once Asher was standing, Jean-Claude let his fingers trace along the crack before plunging one inside. Asher bucked, hitting himself against one of the fangs, which issued a long hiss. Jean-Claude let his lover relax before releasing the penis from his mouth and wriggling his finger around. Soon after, he added another digit, causing Asher to wiggle around to get a bit more friction. Jean-Claude kissed along Asher’s hips, creating another small bite and another small sound from the blonde. Then, Jean kissed his way up Asher’s chest until he was hovered above those pallid lips. Even before he touched them, Jean-Claude could taste that wondrous taste of son chardonnet.

With his free hand, Jean roughly pulled the scarred angel those last few inches, letting his mouth explore a small field of satin while other digits wriggled further into the body. The darker one bit into the lower lip, pleased at the small sounds that were issuing from the other. The digits pulled slowly out and the fang pierced deeper, causing a hollow wound. Asher wriggled some, feeling empty, feeling a need, a longing to be filled in what ways he could be filled when he was suddenly pressed up against the wall. His heart beat several times as he felt his old lover press against him, the tip of him pressed against Asher’s rectum, warning him of what was to come. The Master of St. Louis kissed his second once more before pushing his way inside, causing the other to still for some moments before his hips had begun to roll once more, demanding that need to be met. And Jean-Claude gave it. He gave into that desire by pulling out slightly and slamming into that body.

Cries of pleasure filled the air as Asher tried to grab for something, anything, and those hands found Jean-Claude’s flesh, bleeding the other vampire. Scarlet streams flowed down the pallid back, and the brunette let out a hiss while his hips bucked faster for a few moments. Asher had been the only one who could get him to enjoy the pain and simply let go. Granted, Asher had the power to do that, but Jean-Claude knew it was more than just vampiric powers. For one, a vampire could not roll another master vampire. Well, maybe if he/she was extremely powerful. But Asher was nowhere near that level. No, Asher held him with love, real and true love. Jean-Claude’s lips pressed against Asher’s, nearly bruising, while his nails raked along the blonde’s stomach. The latter’s breath then became even more frantic, and he pushed his hips upward, bringing his old lover in deeper. Jean-Claude shifted slightly to get a better angle as he thrust into Asher.

“Mon Dieu,” the blonde cried as he yanked on Jean’s hair, deepening the kiss, which caused Jean’s lip to catch on Asher’s fang. A trickle of blood crept into the blonde’s mouth just as Jean-Claude brought himself forward again, bringing a cry from the bottom, and with that cry, the brunette came. A long stream of hot, sticky semen ejected into his lover, causing more bucking and more scratched and louder gasps and moans. Once Jean-Claude finished, he rolled off Asher and kissed him while his long fingers ran through the golden locks.

“Je t’aime, mon chardonnet.”

“Je t’aime aussi, mon merle.”

“Always and forever.”

“Toujours.”

If you are wondering what the translations are:

Ne pas voler lan, mon merle – Do not fly, my blackbird
Je ne volerai pas – I shall not fly
Je nourrirai de votre amour – I will feed on your love
Ne pas pleurer pour moi. Votre sang est troup précieux pour perdre. – Do not cry for me. Your blood is too precious to lose
Vous avez pris déjà mon âme – You have already taken my soul
A la vie – In life
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Learn How to Fly