Author's Note: This is set around 1900. Thanks to septemberoses for feedback and suggestions.


"What do you think?"

Godric was standing in front of the big mirror in their apartment, an expectant smile on his face while he was waiting for Eric's reaction. After spending several months in Rome, in the disguise of a travelling priest and an accompanying neophyte, Eric had finally grown tired of his priest robes as well as of the holy city. They had decided to move on, their goal being the more frivolous Venice this time, and as usual when they left a city, they also thought up a new act.

They had decided to do something they hadn't done in decades - travel as father and son, which had once been rather obvious, but had become more difficult these days. Eric had been quite curious when Godric had assured him that he would manage to look young enough. As always, his maker hadn't promised too much. Godric looked like he was twelve, at most.

He was wearing a tightly cut sailor suit, mostly white, but with a broad, navy-blue collar that made him seem even paler. He looked so serious and well-mannered, but also unspeakably young and delicate, just like any other sheltered and pampered boy from a respectable family. The shirt and the long sleeves covered his tattoos completely, and his hair was wavy and soft under a round straw hat.

"It's the latest fashion in Venice, I've heard," Godric explained with a little gesture to the hat. "So, what do you think?"

"I think you will get to drink from countless motherly ladies who want to pamper you," Eric said with a smirk.

"I will be in need of pampering," Godric replied in a playfully childish voice, and his lips curved into a pout. "You don't look like you're going to be a tender father."

Eric turned his head to look at himself in the mirror, and was met by the perfect image of a dashing officer in his prime, strict and resolute, but also handsome and charming. The uniform, complete with badges of honour, parade sword, and white gloves, only added to his imposing aura. His short hair emphasised the stern features, and while he looked like an officer that both his men and his superiors respected, he certainly didn't look like a lenient father.

"I simply expect my son to behave," Eric replied, every word well-pronounced and clipped, hinting at both noble birth and a soldier's career. Eric had had decades to perfect his act, after all - he hated simple black suits, and ever since they had become fashionable he had worn uniforms whenever formal clothing were required. There was no smile on his face when he added, "I do not tolerate insubordinate behaviour just because I am on leave."

"Of course not, father." Godric lowered his eyes respectfully, and a faint blush coloured his cheeks. They had fed well tonight before parting ways to complete their new outfits. It had become a game over the centuries, and they usually picked their new wardrobes on their own. It made everything much more exciting.

Godric's gaze stayed on the ground, apparently, but in truth he was eyeing Eric's boots. Knee-high, black, polished riding boots. Godric licked his lips. There should be a law against Eric wearing those boots in public. The sight was enough to turn the most naïve girl into a wanton harlot.

"I would never even dream of disobeying you," Godric whispered, and to his credit he actually managed to keep sounding like an innocent boy, eager to please his father.

Two long strides, boot heels clacking loudly on the floor, closed the distance between them. Eric's right hand, still gloved, grabbed Godric's chin and pushed it up.

"I want to make sure it will stay that way," he snarled, and his blue eyes glimmered coldly. Nobody but Godric would have been able to detect the amusement in them, the playfulness. And, right now, even Godric didn't want to see it. All he wanted was his strong, uncompromising warrior, once a Viking, now a steely soldier, whose raw strength could never be concealed by his elegant outfit and cultivated accent.

"Father, please," Godric said, his eyes wide. He had given up on crying centuries ago - blood tears simply ruined his innocent act. But his full lips quivered, and there was a worried little frown on his face. "I have done nothing to deserve your anger; please don't punish me."

"It's not a punishment, my boy, it's simply a reminder of a lesson you might have forgotten," Eric said. Finally, he smirked. That cruel, ruthless sneer he usually reserved for his victims. No other look on his face aroused Godric as much as this one.

Godric moved instinctively closer to him, even as he forced himself to shiver and look frightened. Eric let go of his chin to take off Godric's straw hat as well as his own gloves - putting everything carefully aside, no point in ruining their new outfits. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and the air almost sizzled with tension - and trust. It was like a dance rather than a game.

Eric moved so quickly that most vampires would have had trouble seeing him, and while Godric could have intercepted him effortlessly, he chose not to. Instead he gasped softly when Eric grabbed him and yanked him along. In less than a second the younger vampire was sitting on the plush chair in the corner of the room, Godric bent over his knees, held down by strong, rough hands. Hands that were careful not to rip the fabric of Godric's white trousers when they pulled them down. Godric struggled a little, but Eric's voice made him stop.

"Behave." It sounded almost soothing. As gentle as Eric's right hand, softly stroking Godric's back down to his bared cheeks, caressing the smooth skin. "This will be over shortly, and then we can move on to more pleasant things."

Godric whimpered, and he could only hope that it sounded frightened and not aroused. He couldn't help but rub against the strong thighs he was resting on, and with his head bowed like this his lips were temptingly close to the shimmering leather of Eric's boots. But he held back and closed his eyes, tensing up in anticipation of what would follow, and still so very relaxed in the knowledge that Eric knew exactly what he wanted.

The first slap was hardly more than preparation, only hinting at the true strength in the punishing arm. Eric was enjoying himself too much to turn this into a quick beating; he preferred to take his time. Slowly building up tension, the force of his slaps gradually, but not regularly increasing, occasionally interrupted by the most tender caresses, knowing how his fingertips would burn on the abused skin.

Godric healed too quickly for his skin to redden, but nonetheless he felt the sting of each blow, felt the pain adding up, making his nerves so much more receptive to Eric's touch. There was no line between pleasure and pain, however blurry it might be; it was all one and the same. Godric squirmed on Eric's lap, apparently in keeping with his act, trying to escape those cruel hands, but in truth only desperate for friction.

The last slap - Godric hadn't counted them, but there had been many, more than any human would be able to take from Eric - sent a jolt of electricity through his whole body. He was so aroused that it hurt, but he refrained from turning the tables and simply taking what he wanted. Not tonight. This was more than just quick, wild sex, and he wouldn't spoil it through his impatience.

He remained still, sprawled over Eric's lap, while those fingers kept caressing him, soothing skin that was already healed again.

"Just how I like you," Eric commented thoughtfully, and Godric was glad that Eric couldn't make out his smile. Half the fun of this particular game was seeing Eric like this, so very good in this role, in this position of authority over Godric. "So obedient and eager to please me."

"Always for you, father," Godric replied, his voice shaky with arousal, but also devotion.

Eric's left hand, the one that had been resting on Godric's back the whole time, holding him down, suddenly released him. For an almost two-thousand-year-old vampire, Godric put up a rather good show of slumping weakly to the ground. He ended up sitting on the floor, between Eric's knees. His white trousers were somewhere around his calves, and his brain noticed not without amusement that he would have to ask the housekeeper to iron them again before they would leave the next night.

"You know that I only do this for your best, my son," Eric said with the perfect look of a strict father who, deep down, did care about his child. His strong hands, surprisingly tender now, stroked Godric's dishevelled hair. A tiny little smile lit up Godric's face.

"I know, father." The smile turned into a smirk, not downright dirty, but not quite innocent either. He ran his fingers over one boot, then bent down to inhale the scent of the leather before he pressed his lips against it. Soft, fleeting kisses on the bootleg, working their way down to Eric's foot, ending with a lingering kiss on the tip.

Godric straightened up to find Eric's eyes fixed on him, the look of calm self-control replaced by one of barely restrained lust. His hands were clenched around the armrests, and he looked a lot less dashing and respectable now, sprawling on that chair, with a rather treacherous bulge in the uniform trousers.

Another smile appeared on Godric's face. He looked angelic and pure even now - not only thanks to the blue collar - but he wasn't bothering to hide his dirty thoughts anymore. One of his hands found its way to Eric's knee, then sneaked up his thigh.

"Let me do what is best for you, father," Godric breathed. It took centuries of love to put so much emotion into that last word. Father. The man he loved, adored, respected, needed. The man who was willing to die to protect him. The man who would give him the world if Godric asked for it. Because, under the cold façade, this father loved his son more than anything else in the world.

A stifled moan was all the answer he got. Eric spread his legs a bit more to let Godric move closer. Soft lips ghosted over Eric's clothed thighs and groin while Godric settled comfortably between Eric's knees. Nimble fingers opened the leather belt - filing away its existence for later use - and then proceeded to unbutton Eric's trousers. It came as no surprise that Eric wore no underwear. A vampire had no need for it, after all, and, according to Eric, it was both uncomfortable and unpractical. Godric had to agree at least with the second part.

He took his time nonetheless, pretending to fumble with the buttons and with Eric's white shirt that had been tugged into the trousers. The smile he gave Eric when his fingers finally reached their goal reminded of a child that had just been rewarded for solving a difficult puzzle. And the reward was apparently much to his liking.

Godric wrapped his fingers around Eric's cock, unmoving except for his thumb, barely stroking it at all, only giving a foretaste of what awaited him. He leant forward soon enough, rubbing his cheek against Eric's groin and licking his lips in anticipation. He waited for the first moan to escape Eric's lips before he set to work, his lips and his tongue mimicking the caresses they had bestowed on Eric's boots before. Twirling, licking, teasing, ignoring the hand that was grabbing his hair forcefully. Godric didn't plan to end this so quickly, even if it meant provoking Eric … and provoking Eric was so easy.

It didn't take long for Eric to lose control once he realised that Godric had no intention of giving him what he wanted. He was up in the blink of an eye, grabbed Godric by his hair and turned him around, pushing him face down onto the floor. Godric didn't bother to fight back, but simply went limp, a shivering puppet in Eric's hands, falling when he was pushed down, unresisting when Eric pulled him up on his hands and knees.

"Do not toy with me," Eric snarled into his ear, leaning over him. His hand would have left bruises on Godric's hips if that had been possible. The other hand still hadn't let go of Godric's hair. He yanked Godric's head aside to reach his neck, tongue greedily licking over cool skin.

Godric closed his eyes and moaned loudly. He had considered keeping up his innocent act and begging Eric to stop, but he knew that he wouldn't manage to sound convincing anyway. Instead he reached up with one hand to pull Eric's head down to him, offering his throat willingly. He almost came when Eric bit down, fangs ripping the skin open, mouth pressed closely against the wound to keep the blood from spilling anywhere but into Eric's mouth.

Godric's hands were back on the floor, straining to uphold his trembling body under Eric's weight and strength. Eric continued to feed while his fingers pried Godric open, uncaring if he hurt him, or rather very eager to hurt him, knowing that this pain was only a continuation of the slaps earlier tonight.

Eric's fangs buried themselves deeper in Godric's neck when he took him, and his groan was stifled by blood. Godric let out a rather undignified yelp and bucked against Eric. The fabric of the uniform was rough against his bare thighs, as rough as Eric's beard stubble on his tender neck. The pleasure was dizzying, and Eric's greedy feeding truly made Godric feel weaker.

Not even vampires could keep up this pace for long. Godric came with Eric's name on his lips, Eric with his mouth full of Godric's blood. They both sank to the floor, Eric crushing Godric's body underneath his. He had finally let go off Godric's throat, and his blood-smeared lips were resting on the healed skin.

For minutes neither of them moved, until Godric suddenly shoved Eric aside, pushing him down to snuggle up against him.

"My Eric," he mumbled against his lover's neck. Eric could feel Godric's lips twisting into a smirk before his maker corrected himself, "Father."

Eric chuckled and petted Godric's hair for a moment before he sat up. The floor was rather hard and uncomfortable, and neither of them was tired enough to fall asleep. He stretched a little and looked at Godric, who was sitting up as well.

"You look like a very naughty boy," Eric commented on Godric's dishevelled looks.

"I don't think you're in any position to fault me for that," Godric replied dryly with a pointed look at Eric's unbuttoned trousers. "How are we going to spend our last night in Rome?"

"Alone," Eric replied almost immediately. "I don't want to share you tonight."

He looked Godric over with unbridled lust, but he still wasn't quite ready to give up their role-playing. This was too enjoyable to end it just yet. Eric pulled himself up and sat back down on the chair, stretching out his long legs and motioning for his son to come closer.

Instead of adjusting his clothes Godric stood up and stripped, his eyes never leaving Eric's.

Eric only raised an eyebrow.

"Good boy. Now come here and help me with my boots."