Every needy little noise Drake made, the way he arched his back, the tight grip of his body, how he begged for it, so greedy and wanton--it was enough to drive Ryah to the edge. And then the vampire was coming and Ryah could feel it, the way he clenched down hard, like he never wanted to feel empty, like he needed it more than air. And then he followed him over the edge, his vision going white and he slammed back in, emptying himself into the condom, pulse after pulse of hot come. A litany of curse words fell from his lips, his hands digging so hard into Drake's hips, sure to leave bruises shaped like fingers.<br/><br/>Pulling himself out slowly, he tied the condom and threw it in the bin before collapsing on his bed, breathing hard, heart still hammering, blood rushing in his ears. His mind was blissfully blank, drinking in the after effects of everything. As the sweat cooled on their bodies and the come dried on his blankets, Ryah slowly felt his senses return. He felt his nose crinkle and he dragged himself to his closet, snagging a clean blanket. He prodded Drake just long enough to swap them out and he left the dirty one in a heap on the ground before burying himself under the covers, giving Drake more than enough to cover himself.<br/><br/>The brunet could feel his thoughts creeping in but he firmly told his brain to shut up and he burrowed into his bed, ready to call it a night. There was a tiny, tiny part of him that prayed Drake would fall asleep fast so he wouldn't bring any of this up. That maybe he'd been fucked so thoroughly, his mind was empty and he'd just go to sleep.