Rick stood at the kitchen sink, washing dishes, naked except for a red jockstrap. He needed some attention and wasn't afraid to be obvious. The sun was setting and Peter would be up soon. Rick had timed his trip to the gym so he'd get home, still slightly sweaty, just in time for Peter to "rise". He had left his gym clothes in a pile at his feet.
Peter started moving about in his bedroom. Rick did a few jumping jacks to get his heart beating faster, then returned to what he was doing nonchalantly. The door to Peter's room clicked and creaked open. Rick felt his cock pushing against the fabric of his jockstrap already. Their situationship was good for both of them. Peter paid the bills. Rick provided Peter with blood from a willing host. Feeding coincidentally came with fucking, usually.
"I can hear your heart," Peter said quietly. Rick glanced over his shoulder, playing coy. Peter stood in the shadow of the doorway, his eyes faintly glowing red. He was shirtless, wearing gray sweatpants. His "morning"wood was tucked up into the waistband. Rick turned away, smiling to himself. Peter was hungry. They had a lot of fun when Peter was hungry.
"Huh? Yeah. I just got back from the gym," Rick said, setting a plate in the drying rack. "Sorry, I probably stink."
Peter silently moved up behind Rick. "I like your stink," he said, his lips grazing the back of Rick's neck, making him jump. "But you know that. Don't you?" Peter pressed against him, reaching past to turn the water off. They stood like that for a moment, Rick's back and shoulders rising into Peter's chest.
Peter lifted Rick's right arm and took a deep whiff. Chills ran down Rick's neck as Peter ran his tongue up through his armpit hair. Peter's hands roved over Rick as he brought his mouth to Rick's nipple. He nibbled it gently. Peter looked up at Rick as he drug his tongue along Rick's chest. His mouth open, he smiled, his front teeth descending into sharp points.
Peter turned Rick around. Rick could see a stain leaking through Peter's sweatpants. Peter brought a hand up under Rick's jaw and lifted his face. He slowly turned Rick's face away, pushing his head to the side to fully expose his neck. Rick could feel his jugular thumping against his skin. His breath quickened. Peter could bite him a thousand times and each one would be like the first, but with the added benefit of knowing how good it felt.
Peter brought his mouth down on Rick's neck, barely touching his teeth to skin. "You want it?" Peter asked, gripping Rick's jaw tighter. Peter whimpered and nodded. "Say it," Peter said. Rick wrapped his arms around Peter and pulled him in as tightly as he could.
"Bite me," Rick said. He rubbed his dick against Peter's. Slowly, Peter closed his teeth around Rick's neck. Rick moaned with the ecstasy of it. He reached down to touch his cock, but Peter grabbed hold of his wrist. He pushed Rick's arm back against the counter, squeezing his wrist tightly. "Let me take care of that," Peter said, "you deserve a thank you." Rick felt his pulse throughout his body, slightly lightheaded.
Peter pulled away, licking his teeth clean with a happy sigh. He collected the trickle that poured from the wounds, his thumb passing over them sealing them shut. His "magic touch" Rick called it, much to Peter's bemused frustration. Peter let go of Rick's hand and stared into his eyes. He knelt down in front of Rick, keeping their eyes locked. More of his magic that made Rick's stomach ache with excitement.
Peter buried his face in Rick's jockstrap. He took deep sniffs, tenderly tonguing the fabric. Peter pulled his dick from his pants and started stroking it. He pulled the jockstrap's pouch aside, Rick's cock sliding out and slapping against his face. Rick watched, his head emptying of thoughts the longer Peter stared into his eyes.