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Darrien and Tucker sat in the living room, overstuffed with Victorian-era furniture and dusty baubles and books that hadn't been opened in decades. The moonlight filtering through the window caught dust motes here and there. They looked like fireflies in the darkness of the room. Darrien had pulled a chair over to sit across from Tucker, who sat on the plush couch.

Between them was a thick wooden coffee table, covered in a range of fruits. They were piled up messily. It was way more than Tucker could ever realistically eat, but Darrien had practically thrown a fit at the grocery store when he'd tried to put some back, so he'd sighed and shrugged and filled the cart with his Master's horde.

Darrien had come to him earlier in the day with a look in his eye that had put Tucker on edge instantly, but he'd calmed down a bit when he'd realized it wouldn't involve any harm. Or any extra work for that matter. Vampires, Darrien had explained to him excitedly, couldn't eat anything, and were sadly bereft of the dazzling sensation of taste. But humans could eat whatever they wanted. And Tucker just so happened to be a human. Therefore...

"Okay, which one would you like to start with?" Darrien asked, and Tucker was surprised at how courteous the question sounded. Darrien had practically demanded they drive to the grocery store earlier in the day. Now he almost seemed shy about the whole thing.

"Um, I guess an orange," Tucker said with a shrug, reaching out and taking one from the pile. He began to peel it, digging his nails into the thick skin. Citrus shot a lazy arc across his wrists, and he wrinkled his nose.

He could hear Darrien shifting across from him, and he peeked up to see wide brown eyes looking down at his hands. Darrien was twisting his own fingers together in his lap, thumbs rolling over each other in tiny movements.

Juice began to run over his fingers and across his palm as he peeled back the skin, exposing the bright flesh beneath. Tucker tugged at it quietly, self conscious about his work. Darrien didn't seem to mind that it was taking him a moment. In truth, he was enjoying watching Tucker's strong hands become slick and sticky as they pulled back the dappled rind.

"Okay," Tucker breathed, pulling off the final bit of peel. He made another quick pass over the orange, tugging at the pith and pulling it away in tiny strips that fell onto the table like confetti.

Darrien reached forward and picked up a piece of orange peel, running his thumb over it and leaning back into his chair. He lifted it to his nose, inhaling deeply, then brushed it across his lips. Tucker worked at splitting apart the naked fruit, and soon there was half an orange separated into the palm of his hand, the other half wobbling on the cluttered coffee table.

"So just... eat it?" Tucker asked, suddenly unsure of what this was supposed to achieve. Darrien gave a toothy smile, lowering the peel from his lips.

"Yes, and then tell me what it tastes like."

"Okay," was all Tucker could think to say, and then he was lifting a slice of orange to his mouth, his eyes not leaving Darrien's face.

The smile fell away, lips still parted, and he watched Darrien mouth gently at the air as the orange passed his own lips and settled on his tongue. He bit down halfway, sending another spritz of juice across the distance between them.

It wasn't bad. Not the best orange he'd ever had in his life, but definitely not bad. Tucker wracked his brain, trying to find the best adjectives to string together into a decent description of an orange.

Tucker popped the second half into his mouth and chewed quietly, buying himself some time. Darrien ran his tongue up the corner of his mouth and across his upper lip.

"Well?"

"It tastes... bright? Energizing?"

Tucker reached for another piece, hoping to find a better response. This one went in whole, and he chewed for a little while longer this time, much to Darrien's visible impatience.

"It kind of bursts in your mouth? It's really juicy."

Tucker looked up at the ceiling, as if the answer might be up there. He ran his hands together, the stickiness dragging. He heard Darrien set the orange peel down on the table between them, and when he looked back he was nodding.

"Good, okay. Juicy and energizing. I think I would enjoy it very much."

"Probably. Did you... have you ever eaten an orange before?" Tucker asked, realizing he actually had no clue. Darrien had turned hundreds of years ago, somewhere off in Europe, long before fruits were available all over the world. It seemed strange to meet someone who had never eaten an orange.

"No," Darrien answered simply, then added, "They were available, and used in some dishes, but I did not enjoy one all by itself like this. Not in my short human lifetime."

"Oh. Well what have you tried before? You want to do one of those next?"

Maybe Darrien would have more fun if it was something he could remember having eaten before. It might make it easier for him to describe it as well. Tucker reached up and wiped some juice from his chin, wishing he'd had the forethought to bring some paper towels in here with them.

Darrien peered down at the random fruits, considering. After a moment he picked up a handful of large, round, purple grapes from the table. The stem came with him, and he took a moment to pluck a few off, gathering them gently in his palm.

"Grapes," Darrien said, looking up from his palm to Tucker and giving a shy smile.

"I used to eat these all the time as a child. And then as a young scholar. And then as an adult as well."

Tucker nodded, trying not to laugh. Okay so he apparently liked them a lot.

"Women would feed them to me," he went on, picking one from his palm between pinched fingers.

He leaned across the expanse of the table. For a moment Tucker's hand lifted to take it, and Darrien pulled back, a teasing look in his eye.

"It's nice to be pampered once in a while, don't you think Tucker?"

"I wouldn't know," he responded flatly, and Darrien snorted, reaching back out again.

This time Tucker leaned in, hands on his knees, and let Darrien bring the cool fruit to his mouth. The skin was smooth and soft, the juices and flesh beneath pressing firmly against the sensitive flush of Tucker's lips.

He took it into his mouth, letting it tumble to the back of his tongue. Darrien's fingers remained as he watched curiously, looking down through long lashes. Tucker began to chew, savoring the first burst of flavor and giving a small smile.

"Good," he said simply, leaning back and working the taste along his tongue. The shredded skin ran across the top of his mouth, and he swallowed hard.

"It's sweet, and -"

"Tucker."

"Ah, I mean. Hmm, it's... like a gentle tickle on your tongue? And it makes you feel kind of happy and light."

Darrien nodded, and Tucker watched his thin fingers work, stretching out long before fisting, then unraveling to lift another grape. Tucker dipped in automatically to take it between his lips, chewing and swallowing quickly. Another grape quickly followed, and he watched Darrien work his teeth, imagining the soft dance of juices along his tongue.

"Um..." Tucker mumbled, watching the tips of Darrien's fangs appear and disappear in rhythm.

"The skin is smooth... and feels cool against my lips."

This drew a small reaction from Darrien, who raised his eyebrows, unfocused eyes coming to rest on Tucker's mouth. He didn't pick up a grape this time, instead leaning in to press his thumb into the plumpness of Tucker's lower lip. It was tacky with juice, but so firm beneath Darrien's unyielding flesh. Tucker pulled back quickly, flushed.

Darrien smirked, nodded, and dipped down to pick up another fruit. This time it was a round, golden peach.

Tucker eyed it. He reached out to palm it in Darrien's hand, pressing down, fingers curling into the firm skin. Darrien watched, holding it steady for Tucker to manipulate, not sure what he was doing.

His fingertips brushed across Darrien's wrist as he moved, and Darrien felt it, light as a feather. Like leaves reaching down from the heavy vines to welcome him to partake. To feast at their bounty until he was lost in the haze of fullness and contentment.

"This one isn't ripe," Guilermo muttered, lifting it, then lowering it down to the table. He reached for another peach, and Darrien frowned slightly.

"Why did we buy fruit you cannot eat?" he huffed, watching Tucker take turns gently squeezing the other two peaches they'd picked up at the store.

"What is even the point?"

"Well I knew I wouldn't be able to eat all of this," Tucker answered, still turning one of the peaches in his hand, "so I got some that weren't ripe just yet. Here look, if you squeeze this one..."

He took Darrien's hand, which was still palm-up between them in offering. His grip was gentle but firm, and Darrien let himself be taken, turning his wrist to press his fingers down into the fuzzy, ripe skin of the peach. It was so giving and supple, simply begging to be eaten before it might fall apart in the summer heat.

"See how soft it is?" Tucker said, smiling up at him, golden and bright.

Darrien felt a hunger against the back of his throat, aching down into his stomach.

"Ready to eat."

"Yes," Darrien agreed softly, squeezing delicately, feeling the flesh beneath the skin give way. When he let go, his fingertips were sticky.

Tucker brought the fruit to his lips, genuinely excited for this one. Peaches were a favorite of his, but he didn't eat them often. A limited budget and a lack of storage space made them a headache to deal with. When Darrien had insisted on adding the "pretty" fruit to the cart, Tucker hadn't argued.

A tartness flooded his mouth as his teeth broke flesh, a chunk of fruit easily pulling away. Juice dribbled over his lips before he could stop it, and Tucker's free hand came up to cup beneath his chin, desperate to avoid getting it on the carpet and furniture. He slurped, greedy and urgent, savoring the sensation.

It was wonderful, all of it. The way the sweet acidity melted into his tongue, the way the juice passed cool along his gums and lips and skin. Even the sticky trail that lingered beneath his mouth. He swiped his tongue down across it, eyes half lidded with pleasure as he considered it all.

Darrien stayed silent through all of this, his own tongue working against the inside of his mouth. His pointer finger ran gently down his lower lip, sticking lightly to the skin. He tried to imagine the sensation.

"Oh," Tucker mumbled, coming out of his daze.

He gave a soft laugh at himself. It was kind of cute, watching Darrien pretend to chew. But then he would go and dip his tongue out, or run it along his teeth, or raise a lip in the hint of a hungry snarl, and Tucker's stomach would do a little flip.

"It's sticky," he said, thumb swiping at his chin. His hands were a mess at this point, but he wasn't desperate enough to wipe them on his sweater.

"It's... what is tart? It's like a little pop of flavor. It makes your tongue tingle in a way. And it's bright, like the grapes, but..."

He considered again for a moment, running his tongue along the top of his mouth.

"It's kind of like summer, I guess. Refreshing coolness in summer. Kind and... juicy and...exciting."

Tucker scoffed at himself, shaking his head and looking apologetically at Darrien.

"I'm sorry, this isn't really helpful is it?"

Darrien shifted in his seat. His fingertips were still at his lip, tacky with dried juice now. He inhaled and could smell it. Like nectar, thick in the flowers, waiting to be eaten. It enticed all manner of creature to lap at the stems, burdened with pollen and purpose.

Darrien thought of delicate petals, brushing languidly at the hungry bodies and faces of those who fed. A respite in the early warmth of summer that bled into the edges of a cool spring.

"It is very helpful Tucker, thank you."

Tucker sat a little taller, chest swelling with pride. He let the acknowledgement wash over him, in spite of himself. Tucker tired of many many things when it came to Darrien. What he would never tired of were the tidbits of praise he pulled from their everyday interactions.

"I don't think I can eat much more," he admitted, poking through the fruits.

His fingers brushed over kiwis, mangoes, bananas, even a whole pineapple, before stopping on a round, solid fruit. It was a striking red, streaked with highlights, vivid and beautiful even in the darkness of the fancy room.

A pomegranate. He'd almost forgotten they'd added this to the cart. The last treasure Darrien had snatched up, rolling in the wire cart among its fellow fruits.

"I know you've eaten these before," he said, smiling as he held it up between them. "You've told me about it."

"Anar," Darrien murmured to himself. Then he nodded, excitement showing in his eyes and the upturned corners of his mouth as he smiled fondly at the fruit.

"Yes, I loved these. They were my favorite thing to eat. Very messy, but very delicious."

As he spoke, Darrien leaned back, reaching beneath his cloak to remove a small knife. Tucker handed off the fruit to him, and watched Darrien methodically remove the top before cutting into it in quarters.

Then he was pressing his thumbs into the slits, working the membrane apart and popping a section outward towards Tucker, who yelped in surprise as seeds scattered.

"The rug..." Tucker whined, but was stopped short by the fruit at his lips. He lifted a hand to hold it, fingers brushing against Darrien's cool skin.

The flavor bloomed in his senses. It was almost like wine. Heady and thick, but still sweet. His mouth filled with saliva, and he swallowed hard. He focused past the arrangement of lush, glistening seeds to where Darrien was watching him with an intensity that made him shiver.

Tucker had seen this before. It wasn't just curiosity or passion. It was hunger. The salivation and low inhalations and wide pupils that were the last things most fragile humans ever experienced. It was intoxicating, and he couldn't help but watch the microscopic shift of Darrien's familiar features as he bit into the seeds with abandon.

Ideally a pomegranate is eaten royally. Sumptuously. Decadently. Seeds removed in preparation. There is an extra layer of fulfillment in these actions. It is not a requirement, but an incidental undertaking in the consumption of the fruit. A civilized manner of tackling something so perfectly uncivilized. Fingers grasping and pulling, seeds giving way in a staccato tumbling, juices dripping at exposed flesh and burst pockets of flavor.

Darrien braced himself, stiffening, fingers pressing hard into the top of his thigh. A deluge of thoughts coursed through his mind. Memories of nights of passion with endless indulgences. Delicacies of the earth and of the flesh. The mirage of limbs and reddened lips fading into the hot red thickness of blood flowing freely. Decadence of another kind entirely.

Red tumbled down Tucker's chin in fat beads. The fruit crackled softly as the membrane gave way, releasing into his mouth. The flavor was almost overwhelming, coating the inside of his mouth, tart and sweet. The seeds burst like little pearls in his mouth as he chewed, popping against his tongue and cheeks. His lips were stained a bloody red.

Darrien swallowed, hard, and let out a low groan.

When Tucker lowered the rind he was panting. He'd filled his mouth, flavor dancing across every inch. His nose was stuffed with the fragrance and taste. His eyes were still locked on the wet, parted lips of his Master.

Darrien leaned in, one palm pressing into the flat top of the table, the other cupping the back of Tucker's head. Their lips met, gentle at first, testing. Tucker didn't move, didn't breathe, but when Darrien's tongue ran across his lower lip, he practically melted into him.

There was a pause as Darrien waited for something. A sign. A grumble of his stomach. A strange taste in the back of his throat. Anything to even hint he might become ill. It never came.

Their mouths met again, harder this time, smeared with spit and juice. Crushing together, then pulling apart as Darrien sucked hard at his lower lip. Tucker's sticky hands balled into the front of his shirt, and Darrien closed the distance to kneel on the couch beside him in one swift, fluid movement of his body.

"I can taste it," he rumbled against Tucker's mouth.

Darrien's tongue flicked a few more times against his lips, then began to delve deeper, exploring and tasting across gums and teeth, running along Tucker's own tongue in quick, hungry passes.

Tucker pressed into him, unsure what to do but happy to let Darrien have this. To be a vessel. To be eaten and consumed and enjoyed in whatever way he could be. Let him be the flower, dark red nectar flowing freely from the warmth of his mouth. Darrien could partake. Always.

Finally they pulled apart, Tucker breathing heavily, lost in a haze of pleasure and arousal. Darrien gave another shaky groan, somewhere in the back of his throat, settling into the opposite end of the couch with a dreamy look on his face.

"Did... um..." Tucker managed, flushed. "Did you still want me to describe it?"

Darrien smirked back at him, one fang peeking out, bright white against his red-stained lips.

"No, I think that's okay. But if you want to eat another piece, Tucker, I will certainly not stop you."