Down In The Club

Julian didn't know how he ended up here. Sure, he’s got a few things that turn him on just like every other person, but a BDSM club? He feels… out of place. The lights are low and the music seems to creep along his skin, curling into his hair and sinking into his bones. It's intense, the banging of the guitar somehow managing to sound extremely seductive, the sound rolling like thick white fog over the ground. The entire place is stuffy with the smell of sex, bodies dancing impossibly close to one another in the middle of the room. The club is two stories, and there are people lounging in the designated areas at the top, a metal railing blocking it off from the chaos of the downstairs.

Everyone in the club has a coloured band around their wrist, and Julian briefly remembers the bouncer explaining to him what they meant. Blue for dominant, red for submissive, purple for switch and grey for undecided. The band around Julian’s wrist feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, dragging him down deeper and deeper into a hole he isn’t sure he should’ve climbed in at all. His colour is grey because he’s not exactly sure what he wants or what role he’d fit into, but he’s eager to find out, a little nervous, too. Or maybe this was all a mistake, some silly, trivial thing that Julian really shouldn’t be dabbling in.

He gets the feeling someone in the room is watching him, examining him, sizing him up, but no one at the busy bar he’s seated at can hold his gaze long enough to confirm themselves as his watcher. His hair stands up on his arms, the music almost hypnotic as he scans his eyes around the dimly lit space; around the bar, over the dance floor, and finally up towards the balcony.

There’s a man there, leaning on the railing with his arms draped over the edge, and even as they’ve locked eyes he doesn’t look away. His eyes are a striking shade of dark silver, almost twinkling in the darkness of the club, and every single detail about him, down to the smoothness of his tanned skin, is perfect. His jaw is sharp and sculpted, his lips pulled up at the corners in a cocky smirk. He’s broad-shouldered and tall, black hair messy atop his head, and the alarm that was spreading across Julian’s skin doubles its pace. A rush of adrenaline floods his veins because that smirk is dangerous, and even more so because Julian is afraid he won’t be able to look away. Like he’s trapped in some type of spell.

The man leans away from the railing, keeping his eyes locked on Julian for one more moment before he turns away, and just like that, whatever spell Julian had been under is broken. He feels as if he can breathe again, and his eyes flicker down to his lap, where his fingers had been picking at the denim of his jeans.

He turns around, asking the bartender for a rum and coke, his voice gruff as if he had forgotten how to use it. The bartender is quick about it, coming back with his drink in record time. After it’s set down in front of him Julian wraps his fingers against the cold glass, heart hammering in his chest, raising it up to his lips and taking a long swig. The liquid burns down his throat, warms his chest, sends tingles throughout his body and dances with the adrenaline swirling in his bloodstream. He finishes it much faster than he had intended to, the music pounding into his ears and urging him to sway his hips, and as the feeling of being watched returns, intensifies, even, the need to dance, to put on a good show for his viewer, grows. It scares him, if he’s being quite honest, but in a good, strange sort of way.

“Whiskey. Neat,” A voice says from beside Julian as he sets his empty glass down onto the bar top, sounding calm and unaffected by the chaos of dancing bodies around him.

His voice projects well even over the banging of the music, and his presence is almost suffocating. Julian doesn’t even need to look at his wristband to know he’s a dom, you can hear it in his voice, you can feel it in the air around him. “And another rum and coke for my friend here,” He tells the bartender, and Julian stiffens slightly.

He turns to look at the man next to him, and there are those striking silver eyes again. He’s even more breathtaking up close, shoulders a lot broader than what Julian had seen from far away, taller, and eyes much more intense despite the mirth that twinkles in their depths. He’s not wearing a smirk this time, straight-faced as he gives Julian a slow once over, silver eyes dragging from the top of Julian’s head all the way down to the tips of his toes and back up again. Like he can see through the thin fabric of Julian’s t-shirt and jeans. The idea makes him shiver.

“Can I help you with something?” Julian says after gathering his courage, tapping his fingers nervously against the bartop.

The man’s lips pull up at the corners, giving Julian a smile that makes his heart skip a beat. He squares his shoulders, extends his hand, and says,

“The names Sebastian, and yes, I do believe you can help me with something.”

As their drinks are set down in front of them Julian hesitantly holds out his hand, clasping his fingers around Sebastian’s, tan and pale contrasting even under the dark lights. His grip is firm when he shakes Julian’s hand, and that little smile morphs into something akin to a cocky grin. Touching him makes Julian’s knees feel almost weak, shoots electricity up his arm and makes him flinch slightly when Sebastian grasps his hand. The expression on his face doesn’t change, but Julian gets the sinking feeling that the man somehow noticed to rapid thump-thump thump-thump of his heart.

“Then would you mind telling me what it is, because I’m not connecting the dots here.” Julian says after he’s composed himself, raising an eyebrow.

Sebastian laughs, low and smooth, much like the melody of the music that drifts through the room, dropping Julian’s hand to wrap those long fingers around his glass. He parts his lips just slightly as he brings the glass to his mouth, taking a long swig of the dark liquid inside. Julian’s head spins, brownish blue eyes pulled to every little movement Sebastian makes. He’s graceful and smooth while still somehow holding an effortless look of power, and it’s probably because he holds himself like he’s the most dangerous person in the room, like he can have you on your knees, begging for him, with a simple snap of his fingers. He’s cocky, but not overly so, just enough to give him a type of confidence that fills the air as soon as he occupies it.

“Well, it’s more like I can help you .” He says, tilting his head, dark eyelashes framing the swirling silver of his eyes perfectly.

He reaches out, tapping the grey band around Julian’s wrist. “That is, if you’re looking for a little adventure, a little fun,” Sebastian says, still wearing that mischievous smile of his, his finger slipping under Julian’s wristband and trailing over the pale skin of his wrist.

An involuntary shiver swirls down Julian’s spine, and he stares at Sebastian with wide eyes. He wants to claim that he has no idea what the man is talking about, has no idea what kind of fun he’s suggesting they get into, but he knows exactly what Sebastian means, and he knows exactly how badly he wants to say yes. Sebastian stares right back at him, still as a statue, expression never wavering. His eyes are like black holes, you get sucked in and once you’re trapped you can’t get out unless they decide to let you out. Julian doesn’t think he wants to leave, anyway. He likes this, whatever it is.

He manages to look away after a long while, sucking in a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Shakily he brings his drink up to his lips, gulping down a generous amount, the burning sensation grounding him as he builds the courage to turn and face Sebastian again.

“Tell me what type of fun you’re talking about and maybe I’ll be interested,” Julian says, turning his entire body towards the man next to him, hyper-aware of the few strands of hair that have fallen from his ponytail and tickle at his neck.

A slow smirk spreads out across Sebastian’s face, and his eyes flash in a way that spikes Julian’s fight or flight instincts and Julian realizes much too late that he’s looking at the triumphant face of a predator that’s caught its prey. Sebastian steps in close, and Julian has to tilt his head up slightly to keep eye contact. A tanned hand falls to the curve of Julian’s hip, and those long fingers brush a strand of brown hair behind Julian’s ear. Sebastian's fingers trail down the pale skin of Julian’s neck, over his shoulder and down his arm until the pads of his fingers are resting against Julian's grey wristband.

“The type of fun that’ll hopefully help you decide on this.” Sebastian purrs, tapping his index finger on the strand of paper. And that’s the only way it can really be described, as a purr. His voice seems to rumble in his chest, dropped several octaves and breathed out just loud enough so that Julian and only Julian can hear. “Is that something you’d be interested in?” Sebastian asks, breath blowing out across Julian's lips, silver eyes staring so intensely that Julian is pretty sure the man can see his soul, open and bare, laid out for his own personal viewing.

Julian breathes shallowly, hesitantly reaching out to fist his hands in the front of Sebastian’s black button-down, the fabric silky between his fingers. “You don’t even know my name yet,” Julian mumbles, the sweet smell of Sebastian’s cologne filling his nose and swirling in his lungs.

Sebastian’s tongue swipes out across his bottom lip, wet saliva shining against his tan skin. Julian wants to push up on his toes, close this small distance between them, find some way to break this spell that’s cast him motionless, but he can’t move. He’s trapped by Sebastian’s eyes, by Sebastian’s presence. He’s trapped in Sebastian's arms and alarm bells are ringing in his head, sirens blaring for him to run as far away as possible, but the longer Julian breathes in Sebastian’s scent, the longer Julian stays here, staring into those eyes, the quieter that alarm gets; a type of fog rolling over Julian’s mind and muffling it. And it’s dangerous that someone is impairing his ability to judge a situation, he knows it is, but God he can’t stop himself from falling farther and farther down this hole, he’s determined to see what’s at the bottom.

“Then what is your name, boyyo?” Sebastian asks, and he steps just close enough so that Julian can feel the contours of his body underneath his shirt, and see the different specs of grey and silver littered in his eyes.

“Julian.” He breathes out, “My name is Julian.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere a little quieter, Julian?” Sebastian suggests, and Julian’s name rolls off of his tongue like a filthy word, each letter pronounced clearly and smoothly, like someone testing out a new word in a foreign language.

Julian nods his head in agreement and Sebastian takes his hand, tanned fingers wrapping around pale ones, and he leads Julian through the crowd of dancing, drunken bodies, head held high, shoulders squared. The crowd almost seems to part for them as they walk through because Sebastian’s presence is just that hard to ignore. He demands your attention, draws you in by simply looking at you, and if you interest him enough that he opens his mouth to charm you with a voice like velvet and words like sex, then resisting is pointless, he’ll have you, one way or another. Julian supposes he’s just another conquest, but what with the way everyone is looking at him, like he’s the luckiest guy in the club right now, and the way simply touching Sebastian has his stomach in knots, he doesn’t mind too much.

Sebastian leads him up the stairs, past the lounges and through a door, the music becoming muffled as it’s closed behind Julian. He’s led down a dimly lit hallway, and once they come to the door at the end Sebastian turns around to face him.

“Do you scare easily?” He asks, faint light flicking across his face, and for once his eyes are serious.

Julian blinks, taken back by the question. What the hell is that supposed to mean? “No, I don’t.” He says honestly, “Nothing scares me anymore.”

Sebastian stares at him, assessing how true that statement really is, and when he finds no reason to doubt Julian’s words, he smiles. And it’s different this time, different because his teeth show, pearly white in the darkness of the room, canines pointed and very clearly dangerous. “Good,” Sebastian says, “It would’ve been a shame if I had to turn you around after putting this much effort into getting you here.”

He turns around, knocks on the door three times, and when it’s opened light from the other room floods in. Sebastian gives him one last look over his shoulder, eyes glinting as he flashes a sharp-toothed smile, and then he takes Julian’s hand and leads him into the room.

It’s grand, the ceilings high with golden chandeliers, black and gold fabrics draped over the walls, dimly lit with yellow light. One large couch stretches along the far wall, littered with pillows and blankets, the centre of the room filled with pillows and mats all pushed together like a giant nest, rugs, blankets, couches and pillows everywhere like some sort of giant lounge area. It all holds a golden tint, black accents making everything pop. And even more strange than that are the people. Women walk around barefoot in gowns, jewels hanging from their necks and wrist, and the men are dressed as well as Sebastian. Button downs and slacks, suits and ties. Servants hold golden trays with champagne glasses filled with thick red liquid, scantily clothed with golden chokers and delicate chains draped over their bodies.

Soft moans and gasps drift through the room, and the air is heavy with the scent of sex. If Julian turns his head just slightly to the right he’d see a woman with her skirt bunched up around her hips, riding the man underneath her like she’s got all the time in the world. And looking straight ahead he can see a couple tangled up on one of the many couches, the man’s lips pressed to his partner's neck, and when he pulls back blood drips from his lips.

Julian stares as the man lifts his head just enough to lock eyes with him. He licks his lips, and his eyes are a deep red colour, before leaning down to kiss his partner with his bloodied mouth. Julian turns his head, looking at Sebastian with wide, horrified eyes. Sebastian’s silver eyes flicker over to look at him, amusement dancing in their depths. He squeezes Julian’s hand lightly, voice smooth when he speaks. “I thought you didn’t scare easily?” He teases, leading Julian around blankets and sprawled out bodies.

Julian watches another woman suck from her partner's wrist, and he instinctively presses closer to Sebastian as she watches them pass. “What the hell are you?” Julian asks, pulling away from Sebastian once they’re far enough away from the tangled bodies in the centre of the room, staring at him with shaking hands.

Sebastian laughs gently, stopping as they come to stand in front of a sheer white curtain that falls from the ceiling to the floor at the edge of the room. He pulls some of the material back, revealing two steps down to a carpeted floor with a grand bed in the centre, four black posts jutting out with silk black sheets and black pillows. The white curtain circles around the entire perimeter, and it looks just deep enough to have to step down into. It’s a personal bedroom carved into the floor, away from prying eyes. A sunken room. “I have a lot of names.” He says, “Creature of the night, demon, devil. But, my favourite has to be Vampire.” Sebastian says, and there’s a smirk on his lips, extending his hand out to Julian like an invitation.

He’s even more hypnotic under this light, bronze skin looking as smooth as the silk of his shirt, and Julian is sure that his eyes are glowing, silver orbs swirling with a multitude of shades, a world of promises hidden in their depths. “Do you believe in vampires, Julian?” He asks, head tilted to the side just slightly, and Julian’s blood seems to boil in his veins, his heart thudding wildly in his chest.

He can’t bring himself to give one last sweep around the room, because he knows it’ll just be the same. Sex, blood and gold. The same hungry looks in those blood-red eyes, the same bites and bruises on exposed skin, the same crimson liquid dripping down chins, smeared onto mouths, and kissed off of lips.

“Well, it would be pretty dumb if I said no after all of this,” Julian says, eyes swirling with a mix of two very distinct emotions: fear that explodes within the confines of his chest and slowly spreads out over his shoulders and down his arms, numbing his fingers; and a deep-rooted want that burns in his blood, sets his veins on fire and travels throughout his entire body. He’s high off of it, off the adrenaline that stems from his fear, off the arousal already building in his gut.

“This can go many different ways, Julian.” Sebastian says, voice genuine when he speaks, “But it all depends on your decision. You can tell me you don’t want to do this right now, and I’ll take you home. Make sure you don’t remember any of this in the morning, you can go on living your life like nothing ever happened.” And he’s undoubtedly telling the truth, voice unwavering and very clear. “ Or,” He continues, and his voice still rings true, but it gets dark and low, filthy promises hidden in his tone, “You can take my hand. Surrender yourself over to me. Put your pleasure and very life in my palms. You can pick a safeword, and we can take the night from there.”

His eyes bore into Julian’s soul, stripping him bare to reveal the deep-rooted want, to show Julian that this decision isn’t as much of a struggle as he’s making it out to be. It’s all very simple, and he knows his answer even as he considers the possibilities of the other option. Sebastian’s hand stays in the air, long fingers extended out towards Julian in an offer far too tempting to refuse.

Julian steps forward, pale fingers thread with tan, and Sebastian’s eyes really do start glowing, luminescent swirls of silver that make his skin seem all the more bronze.

“I knew you’d come around.” Sebastian all but purrs out, leading Julian down the steps, the curtain falling back into place as Sebastian’s feet touch the bottom.

Sebastian’s hands slide to Julian's hips, turning his back towards the bed as soon as his shoes hit the carpet. “I know you, Julian.” Sebastian whispers, his body pressed flush against Julian’s, chest to chest, nose to nose, and Sebastian’s voice is thick with lust. It’s almost like a melody in Julian’s ears, soft and slow, strong with a deep base and electrifying in the sense that it makes Julian weak in the knees. “I know how badly you want to give the reins over to someone else, how badly you just want to let go, how badly you want to forget about anything that isn’t the feeling of my hands against your skin.”

Sebastian slips his hands under Julian’s shirt, slowly running them up his slides, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “I’ll make you forget, love.” Sebastian murmurs, leaning in close, his breath fanning out across Julian's ear. “I’ll make you forget everything until my name is the only thing you know.”

“Sebastian…” Julian breaths out, heart thudding wildly in his chest, and the uncertainty, the doubt all fades into a vat of nothingness. All he knows is how badly he wants to get his hands on the vampire in front of him, all he knows is the very subtle fear that brews beneath his want, his want is buried beneath his lust to have those lips on his mouth, his neck, his chest.

“See,” Sebastian says with a wicked smirk on his lips, leaning back to look at Julian with those hypnotizing eyes, “You’re getting the hang of it already.”

And then he moves, yanking Julian’s shirt off and over his head, exposing pale planes of skin to the light. The vampire trails his hand down, fingers moving through brown hair and down a pale neck until he gets to Julian’s chest, hand fanning out at the centre and pushing Julian back until he’s falling onto the black sheets; the mattress sinking in around his weight and the sheets gliding across his skin. Sebastian moves in little intervals far too fast for Julian’s human eyes to process, one moment he’s standing at the edge of the mattress, staring down at Julian, and the next he’s kneeling on the bed, shirtless and kissing up Julian’s stomach, his tongue sliding out across Julian’s skin. He drags a hand farther and farther up Julian’s chest as he moves along, those tan fingers eventually wrapping around Julian's’s throat as the vampire gets to his lips, leaning back to stare into his eyes with the fiercest look Julian has ever seen. Glowing eyes illuminate his face, the smirk on his lips revealing the sharp teeth of a hunter. He radiates a type of energy that Julian gets drunk off of, something dizzying and addictive, something that makes Julian want to lay himself out bare and give Sebastian free reign to do any and everything he wants with him.

And, judging by the light pressure of Sebastian’s hand against his neck, by the desire painted so clearly across his face, by the way his eyes seemed to swirl and ripple with different shades of silver like a storm, Julian has a feeling the vampire would like to do a lot with him.

“Safeword?” Sebastian murmurs, trailing his other hand over Julian’s shoulder, pressing him further into the bed.

His lips just barely brush over Julian’s own, and he yearns for the feeling of that mouth in his own, because Sebastian's voice, his warmth, his smell, is about as intoxicating as liquor, if not better. “Garlic,” Julian answers, voice a breathless whisper, and then there isn’t a moment left before Sebastian’s mouth is on his own.

His lips are searing, and he moves slowly like time itself is supposed to yield to him the same way Julian is yielding, lips parting in a gasp at Sebastian’s touch. The vampire slips his tongue into Julian’s mouth, the bed dipping in further as he shifts more of his weight to his knees, his hands sliding over the bare skin of Julian’s arms. Those long fingers wrap around his wrist and yank his arms above his head, and Sebastian’s tongue is hot and wet in his mouth, licking along the sides of his cheeks, over the roof of his mouth, tangling with Julian’s own in a slow, dangerous dance of cat and mouse. He dominates Julian’s mouth, takes what he wants and gives what he wants, leaves Julian’s lips bruised and red from the little bites and tugs. His grip on Julian’s wrist is strong, and Julian gets a thrill thinking about the possibility of there being marks left behind on his skin. Sebastian’s marks, evidence that he had been here, evidence that, even if just for a night, he belonged to Sebastian.

“Sebastian~” Julian gasps against those lips, already growing hard in his pants, his voice sounding whiny and desperate even to his own ears. Sebastian leans back, slender fingers moving to grip Julian’s face, silver eyes glowing more vibrantly than Julian has ever seen thus far.

“You won’t move from this position unless I move you myself, or I tell you to.” He commands, and his voice holds a hard edge, like he’s not only ordering this to happen but also willing it into existence.

And Julian is drowning in those eyes, Sebastian’s words washing over him like a tidal wave, water swallowing him whole and filling his lungs, making his body feel like lead. Sebastian smirks once he sees the impact of his words, the bright glow of his eyes dimming as he leans in to kiss and suck purple bruises down Julian’s neck, and even as the vampire moves his hands from those pale wrists, Julian still can’t move. It feels like he’s being weighed down, a type of pressure equivalent to that of Sebastian’s hands keeping him pinned to the bed.

“Why-” he gasped as Sebastian dragged his teeth over the skin of his collarbone, “Why can’t I move?” He asks.

Sebastian chuckles darkly against his skin, looking up at Julian’s face through thick eyelashes.“Mind Compulsion.” Sebastian answers, voice as sticky and sweet as molasses, “You’ll do what I want, how I want it and when I want it. You won’t be able to move, not unless I tell you to or I move you myself.”

And the explanation scares Julian, exactly as it should, but the eagerness building in his chest, exploding out and travelling to every limb in his body, is what’s strange. He’s afraid, but that fear makes the heat in his abdomen swirl and thicken into a slow roll of molten lava. It doesn’t help that Sebastian is in the process of kissing over his chest, blue eyes half-lidded and hungry as he drags his tongue over Julian’s skin.

His hands curl into fists where they’re stuck above his head, nails digging into his palms as Sebastian’s tongue slithers across his nipple. It probably shouldn’t feel as erotic as it does, even playing in the factor that Julian’s nipples are extremely sensitive, but because it’s Sebastian who’s doing all of this, everything seems intensified. Julian doesn’t know if it’s some kind of vampire trick, or if Sebastian is just really good with his mouth, but he doesn’t think he cares enough to really think about which one it is.

However, even if he had wanted to figure it out, Sebastian doesn’t give him enough time to, pulling away from where his lips had been wrapped around the flushed pink skin of Julian’s nipple, his breath hot against Julian's wet skin. He smirks, lips tugging up at the corners, and Julian sees hell in those silver eyes, silver flames dancing like an inferno within their depths. And then Sebastian’s lips are curling over his teeth, sharp and white, gleaming with an almost pearl-like luminescence, pupils contracting and maneuvering until they’re nothing but slits in the silver depths of Sebastian’s eyes. He dips his head, and then those sharp teeth are piercing through Julian’s skin.

Julian has gone through a lot in the time he’s been on this earth. He’s been in plenty of people’s beds, has moaned and cursed plenty of different names, has felt plenty of different things, but none of them compared to what he feels as those fangs sink into his flesh. It hurts, sends shockwaves of pain vibrating throughout Julian’s body, makes him gasp out a surprised yelp and clench his hands into even tighter fist, but it isn’t as simple as that.

He doesn’t just feel how it hurts, or maybe he does and he likes it, Julian doesn’t know. What he does know is that the pleasure zapping through his veins is what makes him arch his back up and pull at the invisible restraints on his limbs, he does know the gasp that left his lips only moments before turns into a high pitched whine because of the fangs digging into his skin. He knows that he can’t just say it hurts, because it’s so much more than that, it makes sparks zap through his body, it fuels the fire swirling in his gut, it makes him crave more.

It makes him gasp out the vampire's name, “ Sebastian!, ” needy and desperate, jeans beginning to feel much too tight as he strained against them.

Julian’s heart pounds furiously in his chest, adrenaline vibrating throughout his entire body, and a thick fog rolls over his mind, silencing the pain until it’s nothing but thin pricks against his skin, and blackness spots in his vision. That’s when Sebastian pulls away, eyes fluttering open, looking up through thick eyelashes with glowing silver eyes. He lazily circles his tongue over the teeth marks scarring Julian’s skin, cleaning up the mess he made as he trails his hands down to the waistband of Julian’s jeans. Julian pants, flushed red from his cheeks down to his chest, and he’s scared. Not scared of Sebastian, not scared of the fact that he can’t move, not scared of the way his blood trickles out of the corner of Sebastian’s mouth and dribbles down his chin. He’s not afraid of the way Sebastian makes an appreciative hum as he licks the last remaining specs of blood from his lips, and he’s not afraid of the yank of his jeans down his legs.

But he is afraid of the yearning building in his gut, he’s afraid of the desperate whines and pleas for more that swirl in his head and threaten to spill from his lips. He’s afraid of the way he’s reacting to this, something that should be traumatizing, terrifying, terrible, like it’s the best, most intense thing to ever happen to him. He’s scared of himself. He’s scared of how hard he’s gotten in his boxers, he’s scared of how badly he wants the vampire above him.