stakeout (gone wrong ) (gone sexual) (2025)

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He averts his eyes, focusing on the strain on his shoulders as his arms stay pinned against his own back, ignoring the distinctly slick feeling of still-cold lube sliding down his thighs.

The hunter’s rough face presses against him from behind, breath hot against his neck as a low groan escapes their lips while he fondles the divot formed by his now-slick thighs. Eilhart takes a deep breath, stifling a hiss as his attention gets dragged all the way back down to his crotch and the way it twitches when the other man runs his fingers against his still-soft cock.

“Just stay put, yeah? We won’t hurt ‘yer little friend over there if you do…” The other man taunts, dry lips pressed against the nape of his neck. He pulls his hand away with a firm squeeze to his balls, fingers digging a little bit too hard into the soft flesh, drawing a half-aborted groan from the priest.

“...Just get on with it,” Eilhart hisses, mind desperately — and failing — to wander elsewhere.

He and his adopted charge  — Theo, who was currently staked in the corner of the room, immobile and all —  had been ordered by the Prince to stalk one of the local nightclubs that had drawn the attention of the local Inquisition. One too many of their ilk had been spotted scoping the area out, far too difficult for the neonate that had been taking care of the place. Unfortunately for him, he had an old favor to repay, and was thus the unlucky pawn ordered to sniff them out.

His misfortunes, however, did not end there. For whatever reason, the fledgling Tremere had found himself overpowered in this godforsaken bathroom, cornered by the very same hunter that had been molesting him for the past few minutes. Naturally, it was up to him to get the idiot out of that situation before everything boiled over into a massive breach.

His attention is drawn back to the hunter with a flinch, acutely aware of the man’s swollen cockhead pressing against the firm flesh of his ass, its owner taking the opportunity to slide his cock against his bare skin. Eilhart grits his teeth, attempting to ignore the distractingly wet trail left behind by the tip as its owner slaps it against his behind, the sound of skin on skin ringing far too loud in his ears.

The other man moves his free hand to the priest’s hip, hands digging in a bit too hard as he holds his cock with the other, guiding it down towards the cleft of the kindred’s thighs.

“Ready?” the hunter asks, pushing in the ruddy head of his cock past his thighs without waiting for his answer.

Eilhart holds his breath as he feels warm flesh against his own, the stiff prick sliding in without much resistance against the tight crevice formed by his thighs. He tenses when he feels the cockhead’s ridge rub against his taint, tantalizingly grazing against the sensitive flesh before being replaced by the warm heft of the man’s shaft.

The cockhead makes itself home within the crevice of his thighs, nestled right below the weight of his own balls. The other man takes the opportunity to press himself closer to Eilhart, his now-free hands moving to pull the priest’s clothed back against his body.

“Just keep ‘em clamped shut, got it? No need to do anything on your end, freak.” The other man laughs, one of his hands drifting upwards to cup at his chest, hand sliding underneath the unbuttoned fabric. He toys with one of his nipples, the dark bud slowly stiffening under his ministrations.

Eilhart lets out a low growl as the man squeezes the nipple a little bit too hard. “Aw, no need to get aggressive,” he teases, rolling the soft bud against the rough pads of his fingers, while taking the opportunity to slide his hips backward, grinding his cock against the priest’s thighs once more. “Unless you want to join your little friend over there, that is.” He cocks his head towards the fledgling’s immobile body, propped up against the sink, his thin frame limping over awkwardly.

A lewd squelch fills the room as the man sets a steady pace, fucking into his thighs as if it were any other hole. The man makes a point to tug on his now-swollen nipple alongside every other thrust into the wet embrace of the priest's thighs, drawing a sharp inhale and the occasional hiss from his mouth. Eilhart tries his best to stay silent, eyes squeezed shut as he tries to think of virtually anything else as the other man’s head grinds against the back of his sensitive sack, the unwanted friction sending jolts of pleasure straight to his own traitorous cock.

He barely notices it when one of the hunter’s hands drops down to his crotch, immediately drawing his attention as a rough hand clamps down on his half-hard cock, giving it a rough squeeze before lightly raking a nail over the sensitive head.

Eilhart immediately bucks his hips, thighs clamped shut even tighter as his body chases the sensation involuntarily. The hunter laughs, low and mocking, right into his ear. “Enjoying ‘yerself, huh?”

“...Shut up.” He snarls, gritting his teeth as he tries to recollect himself while the other man strokes and teases him to full mast. The hunter continues regardless, savoring the way the priest shut his thighs around his cock, unfamiliar territory being coaxed into life with each nudge and stroke of the hunter’s cock.

It doesn’t take too long until whimpers pour out of the kindred’s gritted teeth, hips beginning to buck alongside the hunter’s own as he fucks into his muscled thighs, chasing the way his undead nerves flared with the all too-human feel of pleasure shooting up his spine. The hunter now had his arms wrapped around the priest, clutching at him tightly to bring their bodies together, forehead resting against the kindred’s neck, soaking his dark shirt with sweat.

It was dizzying for the priest, the far-too-human sensation of the hunter’s warmth — both from his body and from his cock still nestled between his thighs — proved to be far too much for him, a sensation that had been long denied from him since his apparent undeath.

With a strangled groan, he feels the hunter go rigid behind him, hands clutching almost painfully against his sturdy frame as the hunter climaxes, twitching cock fully nestled between his taint and his balls.

The priest lets out a shaky breath as he feels warmth coat the insides of his thighs, tickling the sensitive flesh as it trickled down slowly. It takes a moment or two before the hunter releases him from his grasp, hands reaching down to grab at the kindred’s pants before shoving them up haphazardly, the still-wet cum now soaking the inside of the priest’s undergarments.

“There we go. You’re not too bad of a fuck, huh?” The hunter laughs, one hand playfully shoving Eilhart as the priest attempts to compose himself, mind still occupied by his still-hard cock, left largely unattended during their little tryst.

Eilhart stays silent, chest heaving as he stares at the hunter blankly. The hunter shrugs as he fixes himself, too busy tucking his flaccid dick back into his own pants to pay attention to the disheveled priest.

“I’ll let you abominations go for now — but don’t expect me to be so merciful next — !”

The other man barely registers it when teeth meets tile, forehead splitting open as the priest kicks him to the ground, head resting only a few inches away from the staked vampire’s feet.

“You little —!”

“Quiet,” is all he hears before the priest’s shoe connects with his face, knocking the man out almost immediately. Without much fanfare, the priest bends over to remove the stake from the nearby fledgling, once-paralyzed limbs released from their supernatural hold.

“I — I’m sorry,” Theo chokes out, scrambling to his feet once he regains control of his body. “He, uh, caught me off guard.”

The two of them struggle to make eye contact with each other, the fledgling having been one hundred percent present — albeit paralyzed — during the entire debacle with the hunter. Neither of them say a word about it, awkward silence filling the cramped room for a few seconds until a wet gurgle interrupts the two.

Both kindred turn their eyes to the hunter on the floor, face bashed in and beyond repair but still very much alive.

“Er…What about him, then?” Theo asks, deliberately avoiding anything about the earlier incident as he looks up to the Toreador, who now looked like he was suffering from a severe migraine. “I mean, we can’t just leave him here.” The fledgling nudges the body with his foot, blood smearing on the yellowing rubber of its toecap.

“...You can eat him if you want, I don’t care.” Eilhart says flatly, shifting in place uncomfortably as he tries to ignore the now-tacky sensation in his crotch with each little movement. He resists the urge to obliterate the body below his foot as he buttons up his shirt.

“Um. Are you sure?” The fledgling asks, unsure. “You normally won’t let me do this kind of thing…” He trails off, voice lowering to a whisper as the older vampire glares at him, implicit threat present behind his golden gaze.

“Er, okay.” Theo spits out, squatting down as he picks up the limp body, still convulsing as it bleeds out slowly.

Eilhart turns away as the boy begins to feed, the gurgled groans from the hunter dying down to eventual silence as the boy sucks his veins dry.

The priest takes the opportunity to calm himself down, squeezing his eyes shut as the combination of frustration and the overwhelming scent of blood threaten to steer him straight into a potential frenzy.

He takes a deep breath.

He’ll deal with it later.