yourstrulyalexanderdietrich

[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

Dark Passage (1947) dir. Delmer Daves

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[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

Atelier Versace Fall 2014

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[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

Reem Acra Fall 2016

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[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

Emanuel-Ungaro fall 15 winter 16

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Giambattista Valli haute couture

[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

I don’t know if I should accept the flattery, or be smart and scared and doubt him.

“You sound so sure,” I dare myself to say it, because Jeffrey before Thomas would have said it and because Alexander and Nicolas are right, that I can’t, I just can’t, and I won’t, let myself be meek.

Maybe I feel weak tonight. But I am not prey. I’m not.

“You don’t want to lose to him,” I tell myself. I trust that. ���So you won’t.” It sounds good when I say it, hopefully it sounds good to him too.

A horrific thought occurs to me.

“Will Aun—will Alexander be part of the contest?”

But he’s an incubus. Do I misunderstand the meaning, or isn’t this what he does? How could an incubus go into a sex contest and lose? And his entry is a pair of twins, right? Isn’t that what I’m supposed to understand? Twins? Don’t people like twins–I’ve been told they do, it wouldn’t surprise me if Nicolas has had a stray thought or two about the Dead–

“Fuck,” I whisper, next to him in the elevator. The light is too bright, the mirrors too sparkly. On the way up I was very good at not looking at the colour of my skin, but I catch my own eye probably twenty times before the lift makes its way down. A drop of blood did this to my sick body, made me able to focus, made my skin look alive again. Was that just a dream too? That I looked so godawful? A drop of blood fixed me. What were his mouthfuls doing that I wasn’t even aware of. 

Maestro says he’s not going to finish first for Dorian’s…I don’t know if they’d be thralls as well, but I guess so. It’s a small comfort, that he hints I don’t need to be good if he isn’t going to be excited. 

“But why enter a contest like this?” I dare to ask. I feel cold on the inside, and hollow. I felt like whatever I drank burned through me and cleared everything out along the way. My belly and gut cramp on the empty spaces, but the idea of putting anything in my mouth makes me want to die. I cling to Maestro’s arm in the cold air outside. My knees wobble yeah, but it also can’t hurt to let him feel needed. 

[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

The boy approaches with a similar expression of apprehension and modern teenage distrust that his brother wore. And while his brother does posess the same self-preserving determination, the same hard-working ethic that shrugs momentary discomfort for the greater good, Jeffrey is also a whore, which his nearly virgin twin will likely take many years and experiences to understand. When Jeffrey is asked to kiss his auntie, he offers at first the same dry-lipped peck of any good water-born relative, but this twin doesn’t miss the intensity of unblinking eyes that don’t want to let him leave so easily.

Alexander can only guess what goes through the boy’s mind and how his mortal stomach must flip and threaten to heave to get so close to another corpse so soon. But Jeffrey Todd, determined whore with a tidy Death wish, slips his fingers into the dry hair at his auntie’s temple, and with this kiss opens his humid mouth to hug a greasy painted bottom lip, and hold for a throb, for two, and even has the audacity to draw back flushed. He’s gentlemanly enough to hold Alexander’s skeleton until it can balance on its own, then kisses his cheekbone, and temple, as if pretending for the ever-watching mob of society to be lovers.

Alexander laughs, impressed. Moved as he is, it is probably wise for the mortal to step back and remain unthreatened.

He should have nothing to worry about, except attracting Dorian’s fancy.

“I’ll see you in a week, sweetheart.”

With a roll of his eyes, Nicolas huffs a scornful laugh.

“Who knows? You can’t lose,” he says with the kind of confidence only a very satisfied man could want to insinuate.

[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

The boy is stunned in his silence, gaping for some kind of understanding. Satisfied, Alexander dismisses his company once more, even going to the effort to stand.

“Now come give Auntie a kiss, and go practice.”

With a roll of his eyes, Nicolas huffs a scornful laugh.

“Who knows? You can’t lose,” he says with the kind of confidence only a very satisfied man could want to insinuate.

[yourstrulyalexanderdietrich]

The boy stands like the lamb he is, fingers splayed long and white and beautiful, nails barely darkened by his recent meal, against the arm of the white leather couch.

“What!” He gasps, and Alexander does not conceal his toothy grin. That’s more like it. “Is this some kind of trick? H-he’s going to fuck me, he’s going to, to what, he—”

“My understanding was that it would be oral stimulation...”

“I have to suck his cock!” The boy exclaims, with shock and outrage. “I don’t...and...and if I lose, I what? I...” cogs seem to turn in his sick addled mind. “You’re gonna have me put down!?”

“You must allow that our mutual acquaintance shares his charms liberally, and I may have found myself distracted during the terms of engagement,” Nicolas replies, hoping to obfuscate the nakedness of his own infatuation with the lesser incubus-turned-vampire. 

“I would offer a substitute if Dorian would accept one,” Nicolas tells Jeff with some decent apology in his voice. “Our new thralls are to service each other’s masters. First to finish wins.”