[ it's a gentle chiding, but he means it. he doesn't know what he'd do without alfred, if he's honest, and relying on him has become second nature.
he can feel and hear alfred's pulse pick up, but he doesn't pull away. instead he flattens his hand there somewhat, fingertips brushing skin, and he hums thoughtfully. ]
I don't think it makes you selfish to offer of yourself, for what it's worth. [ he swallows-- ] --you don't have to go to the club. It'd just be impersonal, perfunctory, when it's done as a job, don't you think?
[ he leans close then, apropos of nothing, and noses against the other side of his neck, lips brushing skin, points of his fangs barely scraping. ]
I'm always hungry, Alfred. That's part of the curse, the eternal hunger. I just--felt bad, asking. I--come with me, to the couch.
[ it's easy to guide him, to urge him, and his hands grasp for alfred's to draw him to the sofa and sit on it with him. ]
no subject
[ it's a gentle chiding, but he means it. he doesn't know what he'd do without alfred, if he's honest, and relying on him has become second nature.
he can feel and hear alfred's pulse pick up, but he doesn't pull away. instead he flattens his hand there somewhat, fingertips brushing skin, and he hums thoughtfully. ]
I don't think it makes you selfish to offer of yourself, for what it's worth. [ he swallows-- ] --you don't have to go to the club. It'd just be impersonal, perfunctory, when it's done as a job, don't you think?
[ he leans close then, apropos of nothing, and noses against the other side of his neck, lips brushing skin, points of his fangs barely scraping. ]
I'm always hungry, Alfred. That's part of the curse, the eternal hunger. I just--felt bad, asking. I--come with me, to the couch.
[ it's easy to guide him, to urge him, and his hands grasp for alfred's to draw him to the sofa and sit on it with him. ]
I won't--take much.