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In Sanguine Veritas

Chapter Text

You don't even want to know what I'm gonna do to you

I don't know which me that I love
Got no reflection



I walk into the NDRGRND at ten to ten, smile as I smell the familiar mixture of sweat, alcohol, dry ice, pheromones.

I love goth clubs; one of my favourite hunting grounds. Girls dressed in any type of material, as long as it’s black and shows a lot of skin; guys dressed in tight leather and ready to experiment with their sexuality... honestly, they couldn’t be better if I’d been asked to design them.

I’m modestly dressed in black jeans - 501s, they make my arse look good - and a tight black t-shirt under a leather jacket. I get enough attention without tarting up, and I don’t want to look too memorable - my career kind of requires keeping a low profile. Except for my prey for the evening, I don’t want people to think about me too much.

My prey is bound to remember me for a bit, if I do my job right... so that means not returning to the same place too often. Fortunately London is not short of effective hunting grounds – but still, a good goth club is a rare treat.

I catch a flash of many many teeth in the mirror behind the bar - ah. Best tone it down if I want not to be noticed. My grin can be a bit much…

I order a beer and make my way through the crowds to the balcony overlooking the dance floor, taking a spot leaning against a pillar, surveying the smorgasbord laid out before me.

I have my methods. At this time of the night, when it’s still early, I focus on the dancing crowd. I love dancing, and if it doesn’t lead to more; the night is still young.

I take my time assessing the individuals that catch my eye - good moves, good muscles, good looks - is there that little suggestiveness in their dancing that signals they’re up for a good time? Or conversely, are they shy and likely to love being taken by the hand and led towards an interesting experience?


I select three candidates before I neck the rest of my beer and make my way down. The strategy is simple - dance with first choice, see if they’re likely. If not - stay a bit if the dancing’s good; otherwise or after move to candidate #2. If they’re in a very good mood, see if we can combine and offer a job-share... which again is more likely in a goth club. And it’s spring; everyone is cheerful... it’s looking like it could be a good night.

I remember to not grin too broadly as I descend the stairs and start dancing my way towards candidate #1, a girl in black spandex with cut-outs in all the right places and long black hair with purple highlights.



The first time I saw you was a couple of weeks ago. You looked much the same, scanning the crowd, and beginning your hunt. Your skills were impressive... you were holding the hand of a pink-haired girl in a leather bra and little shorts, pulling her to the toilets, and she followed, giggling. When you both emerged about ten minutes later, she rejoined her friends, still giggling. You returned to the balcony to scope the crowd out again - and when you left that evening, it was with a man - spiky platinum blond hair, leather coat and trousers. No laughing for this one, just smirking around the cigarette he lit the moment he exited the club.

The man I left the club with was neither giggling nor smirking when I was done with him...

The second time I saw you was a week ago - different club, same type of clientele. Amused, I watched as you walked through the crowd with your hunter's gaze, your predatory smile. This time, you headed straight to the bar, and let them flutter around you like moths. Yes, you burn more brightly than anyone in this place full of desperation, desire, and broken dollies.


I watched as you made your selection - smiling at her as if she were the only one in the world, and leading her to the dance floor. I watched as you danced with her for song after song, and then whispered in her ear. She covered her smile with her hand, stared up at you and nodded. Then you took her hand and led her to the cloakroom to collect her jacket, before escorting her gallantly to a cab. I watched as the car drove off, then turned to see a young woman staring at me in fascination - I smiled shyly, hesitated and waved at her. She laughed and walked up to me, smoking a cigarette. She had sharply bobbed black hair and wore a long red satin dress.


"Leaving so soon?" she purred, and took a long drag from her cigarette.

"Oh - y-yes. I can't find my friend," I said sadly.

"I'll be your friend, sweetie," she said, and caressed my face. "Let's get you a drink." Her eyes flickered over me as she stubbed her cigarette against the brick wall and flicked it away. I found myself being pulled firmly back into the club, but my thoughts were of you.

She tasted of smoke, and then she was no more.

This is the third time I've seen you - and it was not even a question that I would see you again. I've had enough of these simpering fools playing at being dark temptresses and children of the night. You do not play at anything - you're a predator, like me - only your prey live to see another day, and mine do not.

It was not even a question that I would see you because I had brought you here - saw you in my mind, and called to you throughout the evening until you appeared. I didn't know your name, but I didn't need it.

The way you had moved through the crowd was like a predatory cat, so I called you 'Tiger.... *Tiger*...' and you came stalking in, with your sharp eyes and sharp smile.


I watch with pleasure as you scan the crowd and make your selections for the evening. The girl you're dancing with is tossing her black and purple hair at you, and I roll my eyes. ‘Nice try, girlie,’ I think. ‘But you don't stand a chance...’

I walk towards you, stumble, and fall against her. We both land in a heap, and she stares at me, outraged.

"I am *so sorry*..." I exclaim, looking horrified. "Someone must have spilled - the floor was wet-" I get up and try to help her, but she stands and pushes me away.

I look back and forth between you, aghast. "So sorry!" I say and head to the bar, hiding a smile behind my hand. I order a drink, stare down at it forlornly, and wait.



First choice is giving off definite interested vibes, when -

Oh hello - where did you come from?

My dance partner is pulled down into a tumble by a smallish guy, dressed all in black, but not to impress - simple, though good-quality, trousers and t-shirt and blazer; he could fade in the background in a place like this, where most people are dressed to be seen and admired.

Though I would still have noticed him, so he must have just walked onto the floor - no way I would have missed a guy screaming ‘I’m lonely and awkward and have no idea how hot I am’ so loudly.

My dance partner is rude and he walks off with his tail between his legs, orders a drink - oh god a Red Witch?! - and looks at it like he’s deeply regretting his choice to come out tonight.

Candidacy for first choice has definitely shifted away from purply-locks. I love love love shy gay boys - seeing them blush, hearing them gasp in wonder and delight... I bet those pale cheeks would flush so delightfully...

The song is ending and I tell my dance partner that I’m taking a break and getting myself a drink. I don’t offer her one - I realize it is rude, but I don’t want her to wait or worse, join me; and even if I don’t get in with Shy Gay Boy - which seems unlikely - I’ve kind of lost interest in her after her brusque treatment of him, so she’s better off waving her locks at someone else.

Through fortunate chance, the best place to get to the bar is right next to Shy Gay Boy. I nudge in, smile at him, and turn to the barman to order a pint of lager. After the order, I look back to my right - he’s smiling at me.

I’m in.



I can't look back to see what's happening... but I feel your eyes on me. I also feel female fury and flouncing. (Relax, sweetie... or I'll come back to bite you later. This one is *not* for you...)

I feel you approaching... I feel your intrigue... and then you're sitting next to me. Smiling at me.

So beautiful...

You order a pint, and I smile at you shyly, before looking away. I throw back some of my drink, and make an alarmed face. I swallow carefully, before coughing and sputtering.

"Oh *god*," I mutter, and put my glass down.



I take a sip, thinking of the best approach, when a beautiful opportunity presents itself - Shy Gay Boy fumbles having a sip of his drink. Could he *be* any cuter?!

I put on a concerned face, rather than a look most people would reserve for kittens and puppies - no need to be rude - and speak the immortal pickup line “You alright there, mate?”



My eyes widen.

"M'fine," I say hoarsely. I cough again behind my hand. "This drink... sounds so cool to order, but it's *wretched*... I'm - an idiot," I finish, smiling sheepishly.

I push the glass away from me, and look back to see you're staring at me as if you want to devour me. Hesitantly I stare back, then hunch my shoulders slightly and look away.



A Red Witch is wretched? What - the vile sweetness of it or the alcohol content? Looking at him, I’m pretty sure it’s the latter - oh god, how old are you, my pretty boy? Is this your first time out on your own? You better watch out, there are dangerous people about... best stick close to me, so I can look after you... very close to me...

“Yeah, I don’t like them either,” I smile. “Too sweet and too strong. Can I get you anything else to get the taste out of your mouth?”



My mouth drops open. “What??” My eyes widen at your amused expression, and I have to fight to not smirk back. “*Ohhh*... you mean a drink!” I cover my face, horrified. “You’re so lovely... yes, please,” I mumble from behind my hands. I peek out at you, and cover my face again. “I really am an idiot. I’ll have a rum and coke, please...”

I had considered for some time which persona to use with this beautiful, strapping man... given your expression, you find me *adorable*. I congratulate myself smugly... Yes, there *is* something you can give me to get the taste out of my mouth... and afterwards, darling - your blood is *mine*.



Oh. My. God.

Please stop being so incredibly adorable or I won’t be able to refrain from grabbing you and squishing you or eating you up.

Where did you come from?! Some provincial town; first time in the city? A protective set of parents who can’t know you’re gay? Whatever, we’ll talk about that later, when recovering between orgasms... I just thank my lucky stars that you chose this club to walk into tonight... don’t worry, you won’t regret it... I’ll treat you so very well...

I order a rum and coke and do my best not to look too amused or delighted - a gentle touch with this delicate flower. Just be friendly, casual, non-threatening, but with just a touch of tough-guy-who-knows-his-way-around, and he’ll be eating out of my hand.

Or... other areas...

Right Seb. Focus. You have the prey in your sights, but could still lose him - use your charms.

“Is it your first time here?”

Not the most original line, but one that makes sense after his exploits so far. As I turn towards him, my knee just casually touches his.



My rum and coke arrives, and I sip it awkwardly.

I look up at you through my eyelashes. I've only observed you from a distance before, and you're even more stunning up close. So tall and muscular, *god* - it's like you were tailor-made for me. Eyes so blue, gazing at me like I'm the sweetest thing on earth. I can see why you do *so well* at this; you have a way of making the person you're with feel so desirable and sexy and special... Your smile is warm and irresistible, and it's making it *so easy* to embody this persona... I *want* to be this person for one night. I want you to buy me drinks, and be all soothing and seductive, and touch me gently - at first. And then not so gently...

I'm not old enough that I've forgotten my human life - I was a criminal and a psychopath, and my life was one of violence and cruelty. And now my unlife is one of violence and cruelty... for eternity. But there's something about you, darling - somehow, in such a short time, you've made me recall what it was like to be innocent and longing for a big, strong man to protect me. Like I never had...

For one night, I think you could give me that... to take with me into the endless cold nights on my own. And I could be this sweet, blushing man for you... I could give you that for your last night on earth, my darling.

"N-no, I've been here a few times... I've actually seen you before," I confess, smiling into my drink. "But you were always - with someone..." I trail off. I look down at your knee touching mine, and bite my lip. I look back at you, with longing in my eyes.



You look miles away for a second - and then come back to earth with a smile.

You’ve been here before?! How did I not see you?!

I must revise my system. No just looking at the dance floor. Hidden diamonds like this must not be missed. Thank goodness you went stumbling around the floor for some reason earlier.

And you - noticed me when I was here? Last time must have been... six weeks ago? And you remember me...

You look up at me biting your lip and with clear desire in those black eyes and I’m done for. I must have you. And I’m yours, tonight, for anything you could desire; I’ll show you undreamed-of heights my sweet shy darling; I’ll make you moan and gasp and cry out with delight; it will be a night you’ll remember for decennia to come with a smile on your lips...

“You’ve seen me before? I can’t believe I didn’t spot you... you look so different from the rest of the people here, there’s something about you... something unique.”

I expect my own eyes are blazing with desire now; I tell them to cool it - don’t be too intense, play it calm, don’t scare him off... if you ruin this, Sebastian, I’m never taking you out again.



You seem shocked that you never noticed me... but no one sees me if I don't want to be seen.

"I'm used to not being noticed..." I say softly. "I'm not - really one of them," I gesture at the dance floor. "But it feels safe being here, and I like the music, and -" I lean in towards you and murmur, "once in a while I see someone attractive and... I imagine what it would be like to talk with him and dance with him and -" I hesitate, "kiss him... and just for that night, I would feel not alone..."

Whoa there, Jimmy... that's cutting awfully close to the truth. Why are you telling him all this??

I sip my rum and coke, feeling strangely flustered. I should *not* have chosen this persona, it's too easy to sink into it too deeply... but it's too late now to go all seductive lone wolf instead, so just ride this out until you can get him alone... and then take him and drink him and be done with it!

"I'm sorry, I'm saying too much..." I give you a tremulous smile. "I always do that. I should just go and not talk your ear off. Thank you for the drink, you've been very kind..."

I squeeze your hand and let it linger on yours for a moment - my skin will feel cool to you, but it never seems to trouble anyone...

I feel a current run through us, and there's a flare of desire in your eyes. What the fuck? That is *not* what normally happens... I stare at you in a daze.



Your words send whirlwinds of emotions through me. Protectiveness - warmth - possessiveness - desire - solicitousness -

and then your hand touches me and a spike of electricity shoots through me. I'd read that phrase; thought it was metaphorical - but there's actually a current running from my hand to my - heart, my stomach, my - groin -

I'm frozen to the spot; my mind going blank. All I can see are your eyes - those big black eyes; and I must look like a deer in headlights - I swear I am more suave than this usually. Fortunately you're looking at me much the same.

Good grief, Sebastian, get yourself together. You're the tough guy who knows his way around, remember?

I try to move my hand, but my arm has forgotten it's supposed to listen to my brain. It's motionless, the muscles not responding.

Your eyes are getting bigger - I appear to be moving my head closer to yours. I had thought about doing that when you talked about maybe kissing someone attractive, but I wasn't aware that I had decided that that particular course of action was to be undertaken.

Honestly; I am normally more in control than this. But kissing you does seem like a very tempting prospect... very tempting indeed... and it's clear that you want it... so let me cross those last millimetres, which seem such vast distances to traject, but then my lips touch yours - so smooth, so cold from the rum and coke –



It's not like it was a spark of electricity - it's a current that's still flowing between us, making me feel plugged into something at a much higher voltage. You're as affected as me - you're staring into my eyes, and you seem frozen on the spot. Until you're not - until you're moving closer to me, your hand still under mine... what are you - *Oh*...

It's not like I've never kissed before. It's all part of the game. Just as it had been when I was a lowly human. Although I had usually kissed under the guise of a persona - or if it was as myself, it was always strategic, always about domination...

But when I feel your lips on mine, I was still focused on the current so I wasn't thinking of my persona and I wasn't expecting a kiss. So I feel the strangest sensation of being kissed as though for the first time... my fingers tighten around your hand, and I find myself moving my lips against yours. My tongue runs over your lips, seeking entry - before I remember I was supposed to be shy and reticent. Fuck. Whatever. Keep kissing me or I'll rip your throat out. Wait, no - bad vampire. That's Hunger talking... I sigh, feeling the hunger unspool through me. *Soon enough*, darling... but I have a *feeling* about this one... he's making me feel not alone tonight, and I'm not ready for this to be over - not yet.

Just a little longer...

Kiss me, sweet thing...



Your fingers tighten on mine, and I'm afraid you will shy away - but no, your lips move to better fit against mine, and then your tongue comes out - oh -

Oh my sweet boy... such guileless innocence, moving into a kiss that reflects your hunger, the longing to kiss a handsome man finally fulfilled; not holding back, letting your eagerness show...

I simultaneously melt and am fired up; I want to pull you close and stroke you softly and whisper sweet nothings and lie under the stars holding you all night, speaking of life and the universe and love and death... and I want to throw you over this bar stool, tear your trousers down, and fuck you into oblivion... and I want to keep kissing you forever, feel your tongue explore mine and find that they are a perfect match; feel your fingers hold my hand like they're never going to let go, so cold - nerves?

Don't be nervous, my sweet, my prince, my gorgeous boy, I will be so good to you...

My free hand makes its way up to your shoulder, holds you, strokes your neck, your hair... so soft and silky, I long to bury my nose in the dark mysteries hidden there...

Wow, Sebastian. This is not like you. If you're not careful, you might actually fall...



I feel your tongue against mine, and I make a soft sound of longing in my throat. Hunger is rising up in me, making me want to drag you off the stool, across the floor and into a dark alley - so I can fuck you and then feed. Mostly I just feed off my prey - but for you, oh *yes* darling, I’ll make an exception...

Only - it’s not time just yet to throw off the persona like a heavy cloak. That will come - but for now, I need it to get you to a private place. I don’t *want* to have you in an alley... there’s something about you that makes me want to slow down and take my time... I'll need a bed for you, or if we can't make it that far, a sofa or a floor will do...

And for some reason, my sweet, shy persona is clicking with you so fully, it’s triggering *feelings* in me... making me remember what it was like to be young and vulnerable... I don’t know why on this godforsaken earth I would be thinking of these things now... but I can’t allow them to take hold. I’m Jim fucking Moriarty - I was a psychopathic monster *before* I became immortal. And no human, no matter how hot and tall and - muscular and - blue-eyed - where was I going with this... Yes, *no human* is going to make me feel something I don't want to feel...

Time to get back in the game, Jimmy...

I allow my persona to settle over me, and immediately feel swept away by your lips on mine. I want to devour you, tear your clothes from you, feel your skin against mine... (*nonono*, Jimmy, let him chase *you*... I like how he hunts... I *want* him to hunt me...)

I break away from the kiss and make a show of trying to catch my breath. I gaze up at you through half-closed eyes.

"Oh," I breathe. "*Oh*..."

I realize my hand is gripping your leather jacket, and I'm practically in your lap.

"So that's what I've been missing out on..." I murmur. And I realize as I look up at you, if my heart could beat, it would be pounding.



You're standing between my legs, so close... You're holding on to my jacket like you're afraid I'll run, or you might fall. Don't worry, my sweet prince, I won't let you drop...

The music is too loud. People are jostling us trying to get to the bar. I need to get you out of here, out of these crowds of selfish people not understanding the precious precarious beauty of what is happening here. You're looking at me like I am the only one in the room, and I must be looking the same. You vocalize your thoughts as clearly as they are written on your face, you beauty, you precious, you marvellous gemstone.

"I'd like to show you more of what you've been missing out on... if you like," I say, my mouth close to your ear.

"Shall we - go somewhere a bit less crowded and noisy?"

I hope you have a place. I never take people back to my place - I just can't. But I won't just grope you behind the bins. You're too fine for such coarse surroundings - you deserve a bed, soft sheets, sweet music in the background, gentle lighting, as we explore each other's bodies, find the sensitive spots that cause gasps, caress the...

Right, Sebastian Moran, stop that right now. You already have a nice semi going there. Keep it classy. If he doesn't have a place, get a hotel. A nice one.



We’re both being bumped into, and it feels like we’re at the centre of a wheel of chaos and abrasive noise - the eye of the storm holds us, keeps us physically close. The current is less overt now, but it still feels like there’s an intense charge between us.

When you ask me to go someplace private with you, I feel a burst of triumph.

“I’m staying in a friend’s flat, but I have the place to myself this month - if you’d like to... c-come home with me?” I say in a jumble, and then look at the floor shyly. You smile down at me and I want to melt into the floor. (Seriously, Jim? *Vampire*, I remind myself. Soulless fiend.... creature of the night!)

“Sounds perfect,” you breathe, and extend your hand to me. I take it, and you start to lead me through the crowd in the direction of the doors.

I smile as I imagine us spread out on the huge bed in the furnished apartment I’ve rented this month, tasting each other’s bodies. I picture you fucking me - rough and sweet... I see myself biting into your neck, drinking the blood that I can scent from here, like warm nectar pulsing through you. And then I picture you still and lifeless on the floor.

I stop and pull on your hand. You turn and look back at a me, questioningly.

I feel frozen in this moment - if I move forward, you die. I’m not ready for that outcome to materialize - if I don’t move forward, it’s almost like it doesn’t have to happen... So I pull you back towards me, and I lean up to murmur in your ear. You bend down, your arm sliding around me.

“There’s something else I dreamed of doing... I wonder...?” I falter. “I used to imagine being one of those people on the dance floor, dancing with a beautiful man... I know, it’s silly-“ I bury my head in your shoulder, all self-consciousness and nerves. “But - would you -“ I ask in a low voice, “with me?”



Yes. Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes this is happening. The cutest boy I've seen in... well ever is taking me to his friend's flat. Asked me to c-come home with him, with a stutter. I'm just about melted into a puddle. Oh god my little prince...

I'm all eagerness to get out, have you alone, cuddle in the back of a taxi, when you stop - oh shit - changed your mind!? Impossible - what-


Oh my god.

Oh Sebastian you heartless plonker. You sex-crazed swine. You cultureless oaf.

Have you never heard of wooing!? Here you are ready to drag the poor boy to a night of depravity when he is dreaming of dancing with a beautiful man... god knows how long he's been longing for someone to kiss him, hold him, dance with him, tell him he's pretty and interesting and lovely; and all you can think of is getting him into bed. And here he is looking ashamed of asking it, of halting you in your haste to devour his innocence, like it's a shameful thing to want...

I could kick myself. I'm so sorry, my pretty prince...

"I am so sorry," I actually vocalize. Really? Don't ever apologize, remember? Don't let people see you're fallible? Oh, fuck that.

"I was so keen to get you alone - in a quiet environment, so we could talk without shouting, and kiss without people banging into us - and I completely forgot the nice things a place like this has to offer. I love dancing, I really do - and it would be such an honour for me to dance with the most beautiful person in the room.

Please -"

I move back towards the dance floor, holding my hand out to you. You take it, smiling timidly, happily - oh my god.

Sebastian Patrick Moran. Stop thinking with your cock and make this boy happy. Give him the best night he can imagine, the night he's always dreamed of, when he was alone in his room. Show him how exquisite he is, how gorgeous, how much you cherish his company. Don't rush it. The night is still young, and full of possibilities. Offer them all to him, on a silver platter, let him take his pick, let him savour each and every moment. Your mission, soldier, is to give this boy the best night of his life, starting now.

We reach a spot where there is enough space for two bodies (barely) and I start moving to the beat.



We arrive on the dance floor, and it feels like we've moved onto a stage, like we have a spotlight on us that only we can see. For a moment it feels like there are no pretences, like you can really see me - but you can't, can you? Well, you're not attacking me or running away... So I'm guessing all you see is sweet Jim... I look up at you with your blue eyes staring at me, and I hear the opening notes of the song begin - a Marilyn Manson song. I feel the music wash over me, and my scalp tingles. I shiver as you start to move - you're graceful like a muscular predatory cat. I watch in awe - your body is beautiful in motion. I shake myself out of my reverie, and move to the beat - I have to be careful not to do anything preternatural... or suddenly become *too* confident - but as I was in life, I am a stunningly good dancer. And I do not hold that back for *anyone*...


Crushing, cheating, changing

Am I deaf or dead?

Is this constricting construction

Or just streets with rusty signs

Of something violent coming?

Wellll, not the most seductive song... but we both seem to be listening to the lyrics, and at the mention of *something violent coming*, suddenly the air between us gets super-charged. I feel my eyes flash, and I dance back from you. I look up to the ceiling, moving my head side to side like a serpent. I turn and slowly spiral my hips, then look back over my shoulder.

This'll hurt you worse than me

I'm weak, seven days a week

Don't run from me I won't

Bother counting one, two, three

By 'don't run' I've whipped around,

By 'one' I've begun stalking towards you

By 'three' I've reached you, and slid my arms around your neck

I gaze up at you, and let my hips sway to the pounding beat. Grinning nervously, I lightly brush my pelvis against yours.



Bloody hell. This boy got moves. And your eyes - they seem to change; like the music sparks something inside you, is taking over, and like in some kind of fairy tale where the protagonist suddenly discovers they’ve had super powers all along, they emerge under Mr Manson’s evocative tones.

Where did you learn to dance like that, my mystery boy? Did you practice your moves in front of a mirror, dreaming of the day when you’d get to show them off on the dance floor with some sexy guy you wanted to seduce? Did you have classes, not the boring ballroom dancing I was forced to learn, but more exciting ones like modern ballet or something?

The sexual tension between us is palpable; the air is charged with sparks, with sweet scent. The club around us has dropped away; you and I are dancing in a vacuum, the other people merely scenery, as inconsequential as projections onto a black canvas. You look at me with those piercing black eyes and step towards me and for a brief second I feel like I am the prey, being stalked, and then your arms are around me and I’ve been captured, helpless, and very willingly so -

but then I see your grin, boyish, apprehensive; and you are my sweet shy prince again, having his very first dance with his knight in shining armour, looking like he can’t quite believe what is happening.

Your moves are quite the opposite of shy, though. Belying the trepidation on your face, your hips sway forward and your pelvic region makes contact with mine and... oh, god.

Again I need to remind myself to calm down, take it slow, as a shock travels from my groin up through my torso and short-circuits my brain. Your face looks timorous, like you’re afraid you may have gone too far, but your hips have a courage of their own and enchant me with their movements. I’m only momentarily frozen - I love a dance that is its own foreplay... I let my hands rest on your lower back as my hips reply to yours, expressing their appreciation for this new acquaintance.

The temperature has shot up to nigh incandescent, the music pours down over, onto, and around us like thick, sweet, black syrup; we’re stirring our waves, sending ripples out to the edge of the night...

I’m lost in your eyes, your arms, your hips, your touch...

You don't even want to know what I'm gonna do to you

You don't even want to know what I'm gonna do to you

You don't even want to know what I'm gonna do to you...



If there was even the slightest chance that I would not have you tonight, it has utterly incinerated - the space between us is charged with mounting heat and crackling electricity.

There's a sense of intimacy and facade ebbing and flowing,

bathing us in fascination...

As the lyrics melt hypnotically into a warning chant, we slow down -

our hips continue to murmur and seduce...

our gazes stay locked onto each other...

our arms slide down each other's bodies...

It feels like the club has melted away and we're facing each other out in the wild, under a blood moon and a jet-black sky full of burning stars.

I grasp your back, and lean back towards the floor. When I rear back up, I'm an undulating serpent with my prey in my sights. The hunger is rising in me, and I shove it back with all my strength. I feel it sink back into me like a receding tide, and I shiver.

I don't know which me that I love

Got no reflection

I don't know which me that I love

Got no reflection


I look up at you, worried for a moment that I've scared you off. But you're staring at me with blazing desire, and my eyes widen as my own longing floods through me. Intoxicated, my hands move slowly up your muscular back. I think of your body pressed against mine, hard and hot and naked. A purring sound rises from my throat, and my fingers dig into your back through your shirt.


In a daze, I realize the song has ground to a halt and we're standing in silence with our hands on each other.

I blink at you...

My lips part...

The next song begins.



You bend back smoothly and when you rise again your eyes transfix me. I have trouble thinking of anything, focussing on anything but you.

When I do this, the clubbing, the picking up people, often, not all the time, but quite regularly, I am genuinely fascinated by the person I've selected. Their smell, the way their hair waves, their muscular arms, shining eyes - I don't fake it when I shower them with interest and attention. At that moment they actually are beautiful, enchanting, charming, captivating, and I want to know them, touch them, experience them closely.

This usually fades after orgasm, though I'm an attentive lover, and I always make sure my partner has had an enjoyable experience. If it was particularly good, the interest might be revived for a second round, but that's it - my attraction is gone after that. I can't have a relationship in my line of work anyway; but I've never been tempted - I don't get why people would go back for something they've already had when there's so much else to experience.

I don't think I've ever been so spellbound as this, though. There genuinely is nothing else in the world than those black eyes, those hip movements that would have got Elvis arrested, those hands touching me, claiming me.

You're so mesmerizing... your shy little smile, slight nervous stutter, clumsiness make me want to whisk you away from this city; away from its gaping mouth that crushes the unwary between its shiny teeth, spitting them out sucked dry, grey, hollow-eyed; but then there's the other side of you coming out in this dance, a more assertive side, a side that knows how to move, how to enchant, how to fascinate, like a cobra entrancing its prey. Your frame is slight, but your moves show confident muscles - again I wonder if you've had dance training. I can't wait to feel those muscles move against me, with me... around me...

Oh god.

The next song starts with riffing guitars, a pleasant rhythm, and our bodies move, accommodating each other like we've been doing this for years... and haven't we? Was there ever a time when I was not on this dark floor, holding your smoothly moving body, spinning you further and further into my web - or am I the one being spun? Or are we both; winding our silk threads around each other; threads of destiny as old as time?

Fuck - Seb - keep your head, could you?

Would you give me the key to the empire of bliss

Gimme a substance to dismiss

Everybody's searching for a difference

Everybody 's searching for deliverance

Gimme just another reason to live

Things you can resist

Things you cannot

They're just framed in blood



Time to be sweet Jim again... and let you take the lead...

Would you give me redemption in your kiss

Gimme something that I already miss

As I sway with you, I stare at your lips through half-closed eyes... as if I'm too nervous to kiss you.

I already came close to breaking free of my own control... I have to be more careful.

Although there appears to have been no damage... if anything, you seem more mesmerized than ever...


*Very* good...

That means you sensed danger, and you have a *taste* for it... you'll be less easily spooked as we get closer to the moment of truth.

Not that it's not *fun* to see fear and panic in my victim's faces, but... they're such *common* reactions. It's far more rare to see enticement, fascination, even desire... and the victims whose death drive is a siren song that lures them into my arms, are infinitely more appealing to me.

And you, my sweet, *you* are staring at me like you've seen the face of god... I could just eat you up... and I *will*...

But why haven't you kissed me again? I feel a slight pout forming, and I allow it to the surface.

I move in closer, and slide my body against yours.


Things you can resist

Things you cannot

They're just framed in blood


I lean in and move my lips over your cheek. I murmur into your ear, "Don't you... want to kiss me again?"



What? Oh - no -

Oh my sweet prince, I'm so sorry - I got distracted - again -

What the fuck is wrong with me tonight!? It's a wonder you're still here...

I was just - dancing - looking into your eyes - and somehow most of the song has passed, and I am not sure what I did, except dance - and look into your eyes -

so dark, so deep, so enthralling...


Damn it, Sebastian, stop getting sidetracked! I'm not even sure how I'm getting sidetracked - it's like you're distracting me from yourself.

Focus, soldier. For fuck's sake.

Dark eyes - look beyond the dark eyes - a slight pout - lips, longing for mine, actually verbally asking where my lips are, feeling bereft, denied the attention that is rightfully theirs -

"I would like nothing more."

Bending down, in the flow of the song still, both of us moving in synchronicity, like the music is a frame in which the story goes forward, the story of our existence inseparable from the rhythm of the music, which had no beginning, which is never ending...

lips touch lips and time is irrelevant.



I feel your lips on mine, and everything fades except you and me. Your tongue is gentle, searching... I allow you entrance into my mouth, and my tongue slides over yours.

As the kiss continues, it deepens and your breathing grows heavier. I adjust mine to match yours.

I don't think I can hold myself back for much longer... I'm in the unfamiliar territory of not *wanting* to leave my victim dead, but how can I deny myself after *all this*??

I moan into your mouth. We break apart, and our faces remain close - we stare at each other, breathing hard. I'm clinging to you, my fingers grasping your jacket. I exhale slowly.

"I think-" I falter, and lick my lips. "I'm ready for you to show me... what else I've been missing."



Your mouth is the sweetest thing I've ever tasted.

The next song comes on -

I'm not the one who's so far away

When I feel the snake bite enter my veins

Enchanting, entrancing, primal. Our bodies moving slightly, rhythmically, as our tongues taste each other, explore. I'm sinking deeper into this sweet dark bliss... you are filling my consciousness, my senses; it's hard to think - something is odd about your kiss, but I can't say what it is, except that it's ecstatic and I want it to last forever...

A moan in my mouth and I come undone. You need me as much as I need you - I stare at you and you stare at me, your dark eyes dizzying me, our breaths coming hard -

Never did want to be here again

And I don't remember why I came

You speak and - yes - we could dance forever, but we already have been dancing forever, and there are so many more things we need to do - I think I groan when your lick your lips, and your - words - oh god - oh yes - take me home, my beautiful prince, and let me show you everything you could possibly ever have missed, let me make you moan, groan, cry out, over and over again, until the dawn and beyond...

"Let's go, then..." I manage to say. I don't think my voice is above a whisper, but you appear to have heard me, nod, and take my hand as I hold it out to you and lead you toward the exit.

Voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo,

Voodoo, voodoo, voodoo, voodoo



I like you holding out your hand...

I like you leading me through the crowd... you have a protective posture, an air of 'no one's ever going to hurt you as long as I have anything to say about it', which is *so endearing*... you look back and I smile shyly and squeeze your hand.

And then we're through the doors and out into the night air, and the full moon is shining down on us, and I *can't help myself* - I've tried so hard to be good, but I push you against a brick wall and hold you there. Then I giggle nervously - "I'm *so* not normally like this! S-sorry to get all aggro, I don't know what's coming over me..." My lips quirk at the double entendre. You can think it's unintentional if you wish, I just want you to have that image in your mind as we make our way to my temporary residence.

I press my pelvis against yours slightly. "No, I do know... it's you. And I don't even know your name..." I whisper, and look up at you through my lashes.



Oh wow, the moon is full... of course; like it could be anything else tonight...

and all of a sudden I am with my back against the wall and two hungry eyes are staring into mine - darkness boring into me, taking my breath for a second, and then you’re giggling and apologizing and you’re all young and cute again, but you move against me in a way that is not innocent at all...

Oh my sweet paradoxical prince; am I confusing you? Making you do things you wouldn’t normally dare? I can’t wait to see what you’ll dare do when we’re alone...

“My name is Sebastian,” I whisper back, not even considering an alias. It’s a common enough name, and if you’re going to be moaning any name tonight, I want it to be my own.

I caress your black hair, shining in the moonlight; god you’re even more beautiful than I thought....

“What’s yours?”



I hesitate. Why don't I want you to know my name?

The end result is the same: you - dead. Who cares if you know who killed you? But strangely I find myself not wanting you to associate anything negative with me, which makes no *fucking sense*...

"Richard..." I hear myself say, shyly. Ok... fine. So *Richard* will be the monster who drains you dry.

I've used this alias and persona before... *’Twill serve*.

"The place where I'm staying is just a five minute walk from here..." I murmur, and regretfully peel myself off you. "I'm - looking forward to being with you somewhere private... Sebastian." I beam at you, and reach out my hand.



"Richard..." I smile, tasting the name in my mouth, liking the feel of it.

We walk the short distance to the Camden apartment building hand in hand. There are still people on the street even at midnight, and I find myself wanting them to look at us, to see us walking together, to admire the beauty of my conquest, the one who will be mine all night, my Richard... fucking look at him and weep, commoners... but bloody typical Londoners all pretend we don't exist.

In the lift it's my turn to push you against the wall and kiss you deeply against the graffiti telling us that Ana and Raoul will be together 4eva - a lift no longer seems an odd place to declare eternal love, I wish I could feel like that sometimes, it must be nice to love so brightly that you want to declare it to the world... I briefly imagine Sebastian and Richard 4eva, it wouldn't be weird, it might stand a better chance than Ana and Raoul; I don't fall in love, or at least not for more than one night, Richard, I'm so sorry, but fuck, I'm falling for you this night, I will worship you with every fibre of my being, I will wrench every ounce of joy from this night and give it to you, I will make you weep with joy, I promise you that, Richard, you will remember me 4eva...

The lift dings on the 13th floor.



Hearing that name on your lips... my eyes close briefly. I can almost believe I am him... that persona I have built around a kernel of truth, a seed of light which never had the chance to grow. Richard is good. Maybe I could have been good... maybe. I’ll never fucking know, will I.

Not now...

But as you push me against the wall in the lift, I find myself wanting to *be* him for you, wanting to be good - even just for one night under a full moon, with you, the beautiful man who showed me what it *feels* like to be desired, and adored.

Because as you kiss me, it seems like you *adore* me as Richard, and I don’t know how you can feel this way so suddenly, so soon, but I *believe* you do -

And when I hear the ding, and the lift opens, I drag you out into the hall. I walk backwards with you, still kissing you. I break away from your mouth, and continue to move back pulling you by both hands, smiling at you with lips swollen with your kisses, and shining eyes locked onto yours.

I bump into the door as you go to kiss me again, and I fish my key out of the pocket of my trousers. “Wait - “ I laugh, just barely evading your lips. “Just let me -“

I keep stabbing at the lock with the key and missing as you‘re kissing my neck.

“Oh,” I breathe. “*Sebastian*...”



I'm vaguely aware of a structure around us, a strong smell of weed, dull throbs of house music coming from behind a door we pass, your lips on and off mine, your smile, your teeth shining in the dull grey cheap light; and you stop at a door, which must be your door, the door to our paradise for one night; god bless this door, behind which the world is ours alone, for as long as we want... Oh god Richard; you beautiful enchanting prince, you're out of place in this hallway with its grey industrial carpet and grubby walls, you should be in a palace in an enchanted forest, with me the courageous knight come to slay whatever obstacles lie in the way to find you, until finally we are alone in your tower chamber under the full moon, and you sigh that you will be mine forever...


Fuck off Sebastian - just don't go there.

Enjoy what you have; and if what you have is a raven-haired ivory-skinned ruby-lipped fairy-tale prince, so much the better...

The obstacle in the way appears to be a door; you're struggling with the lock, which might be because your courageous knight keeps blocking your view, but you taste so incredibly good...

And then miraculously the lock clicks, the door opens, we tumble through, you pull the key out and push it shut behind us -



Chapter Text

I don't need to sell my soul
He's already in me
I wanna be adored



We’re in...

*we’re in*, and I’m pulling you inside (not too hard, Jimmy! Richard isn’t Superman, for fuck’s sake...) and kicking the door shut. I lock it behind me, and we’re both reaching for each other desperately - pressing our lips together, tasting each other...

I’m already pulling at your jacket before I say, “Can I - take your-“ and then interrupting myself as I kiss you. (Damn, Richard... you’re smooth, I think wryly.)

I throw your jacket at a chair and miss, and it falls on the floor with a muffled thump. So much for being a good host...

“Would you -“ kiss “l-like a drink-“ kiss “Sebastian?” I murmur, my hands curling around the back of your neck.



I was right about your muscles - you are stronger than you look. My jacket goes and is thrown in a direction where there is some furniture; irrelevant, it's not furniture that I can get you stretched out naked on, too cramped; I can't go looking for the bedroom, can I? Too presumptuous - but you seem to feel the same way; make no more than a token gesture at offering me a drink, like I would want to taste anything to dilute the essence of you - I've never kissed anyone so longingly, I'm nearly positive... you taste so incredibly good, you are so intoxicating...

and I feel intoxicated, way more than I should - I had two, three beers? Hardly anything... but the world is a blur around you, I have trouble holding on to any thoughts; there is only Richard, and an almost painful longing to be closer to you, closer, as close as I can get....

Damn it, Sebastian, cool it - you're supposed to be the experienced suave guy who's introducing this beautiful boy to the wonderful world of amazing sex, and you're stumbling around like you're half-drugged - breathe, soldier -

I kick myself mentally and try to clear my mind. It only succeeds partially, but I manage to form words -

"All I want is you... beautiful, gorgeous Richard... "



I groan at your words... pull you to me, kiss you...

My eyes open and look at the sofa dubiously... the bedroom feels endlessly far away, but *no*, we are not doing this anywhere else...

“Then... come with me...” I murmur. “And you can have all of me...”

My face feels flushed, which I never felt before even when I was human... what are you doing to me?

I slowly draw you back with me down the long dark hallway...

“I can’t - tell you what this means, Sebastian... I never would have...” I look at the floor as I move and then back at you, beaming. “Never would have dreamed -“ I reach out for the door, and push it back. And just like that, we’re in the bedroom, staring at each other hungrily...



My knees buckle at the words you can have all of me and I'm not sure how I remain upright. Oh god Richard - I can't wait to feel that body, see that white delicate skin, taste it, give it gooseflesh - see that flush appear on your face again, see it deepen... god...

Your words - so sweet - oh my little prince - and your smile - even in the dark, it lights up the world. You switch on a bedside light, bathing the room in a soft glow in which your eyes once again look black like the edges of the universe... I could forget myself just staring into those eyes all night... but no, concentrate, Moran, you're a man with a mission -

I pull off your jacket - I was right about your being muscular - those arms are perfect; not bulky like mine, but strong and lithe like a dancer's or a yogi's. In reverence I stroke the inside of your lower arm - so smooth and silky... I press a kiss there, and another, then move back to your neck. You move your head back to facilitate my access, and I softly moan at that, pull you close, suck and bite gently at that perfect skin as I pull at your t-shirt, lift it up and over your head to reveal your chest - so sleek, hairless, it makes you look even more like a boy.

I stroke my fingers over the delicate skin; you're like a marble statue, so smooth and white (and something else - I can't quite put my finger on it - it doesn't matter -). I slide my hands around you, pull you close, kissing your lips, your jaw, your neck, as you pull off my t-shirt. You look at my scars, trace one with a finger, look up at me. "I was in the army," I whisper, and then we are chest to chest, and it feels so good to hold you, you fit so perfectly in my arms; and I need to tell you, you were so sweet, I need to explain to you that this is special for me too, you need to know how unique you are -

"Richard - I - this means so much to me, too - I mean - thank you so much for taking me home, for bringing me here; you are so incredibly beautiful, so fascinating, so sweet -"

I move my lips to your ear, nibble your earlobe, whisper, "I want to make this really good for you, my beautiful prince... I'll do anything for you - tell me what you would like to do, how you would like me to be... I want this to be a night you will never forget..."



Your lips on my neck... your hands in my hair... your chest against mine...

My head falls back, and I surrender to your touch.

I was wrong... you're not just a player... not just a predator... you're also... *so fucking sweet*... it sets my teeth on edge to not lunge for your neck.

Can that be right? If something is sweet, and breathtakingly beautiful - are you supposed to want to kill it? What else would you do?? I'm so confused... I've never felt this way before...

Why is it that I feel less clear about things now than I did when I was human? I was ruthless then... I behaved like an unfeeling monster. And now that I'm a monster... I'm feeling something?? Why are *you* waking up feelings in me?

All I know is... you're looking at me with *such yearning*... and it's making me yearn *for you*...

You asked me questions... What do I want to do?? How would I like you to be?? What would stand out that would make me remember one night in an endless sea, wandering the streets cold and alone?

I shiver as your lips travel along my neck. "I want - I n-need - "

Strange that my breath should catch in my throat when I don't need to breathe...

"I don't care what we do. I just want to feel warm... I need to feel desired..." I breathe. "For one night... I want to be... adored..."

*What*? Where is this *coming from*?? My hands curl around your waist.

"Not just by anyone, Sebastian..." I murmur. "I want you..."

I capture your face in my hands and kiss you heatedly.

"*I want you*," I whisper fiercely.



Oh my sweet, darling prince...

“You are so adored... you have no idea...” I whisper. “Anyone would... anyone with eyes in their head - you are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen; god, you’re gorgeous...”... and so sweet, but I shouldn’t say that; it’s not what sweet boys want to hear, sweet boys who dance like the prince of darkness...

We sit on the edge of the bed, fall down on it, feeling with our arms around each other, pulling each other close, kissing, gasping, stroking - you stroke with such intent, like you’re trying to memorize every inch of my skin, like it’s only real and manifest if you have touched it; and you’re right, my body comes alive under your touch, like the earth waking up after a long winter... I’m already dizzy, and we’re just kissing and stroking...

You’ve toed off your shoes, mine are a bit more cumbersome - I release you for a second to bend over my boots and undo the laces as quick as I can and kick them off, then lay you on your back and lean over you, kissing your mouth, your neck, your beautiful smooth chest, making my way down, down over your belly... until I get to the trousers. I look up at you as I undo the button, careful for a ny indication that it’s not welcome, too soon - but no, you’re looking hungry and expectant, and - there’s something else there - wistful? What are you not getting, my prince? Don’t worry, I’ll give you anything you need... anything you have ever wanted and anything you never knew you wanted...

I pull your zip down, you move up your hips, and I pull down your trousers, revealing black briefs, full of promise...



Am I *adored*, my sweet thing? Your words make my lifeless heart feel full of songs, and sighs, and beating wings...

And I will carry this sweetness with me for all the nights to come...

Your lips trail down my chest and abdomen, leaving behind a luminous sensation. You gaze up at me when you reach the button of my trousers... oh don't stop there, sweetheart, I want to moan. Richard is so ready to feel you *everywhere*...

Desire pulses through me at the thought.

You've pulled down my trousers, and I'm eager for you to follow suit. I sit up quickly, and push you down. You fall back against the mattress very willingly and stare at me as my fingers skim your waistband. I pause and smile slyly. Then slowly I peel your trousers down, moving down to the floor to pull them off. From the floor I gaze up at you, with my hands on your calves, my breathing growing faster and shaky with excitement.

I crawl over your legs and hips, and straddle you. Both of us are wearing briefs, but there's no hiding our desire.

"I've never wanted anyone like I've wanted you..." I say, in a daze.

I lean over you, my hands on either side of your head.

"I know we won't have more than one night..." I say softly. "But I just wanted you to know, Sebastian... if it were going to be anyone, it would be you."

And I realize as I'm saying it... every word is true.

I don't want this night to ever end... I lean down and kiss you deeply, before falling against you. I roll with you and my legs wrap around your waist.



Even you taking my trousers off is a dance, a work of art... usually trousers are an obstacle in the way, to be disposed of quickly and efficiently, but you taking them down, moving to the floor in front of me - the things you could do there... - you looking up at me with desire, and then you're on my lap, rubbing against me, my cock very pleased to make yours' acquaintance, even if it is through two thin layers of cloth... I have the feeling they're going to be very good friends...

You've - never wanted anyone like you want me? Oh god - Richard -

but - I think I know what you mean; I mean - I know I desire often and intensely, but this - this is on a whole new level. I am giddy, weak at the knees, disoriented, just from being so close to you - either I'm coming down with something or you are affecting me worse than I've ever experienced. I look up at you, eyes wide, mouth open.

'I know we won't have more than one night -'

Oh thank goodness. I have to admit it was nagging in the back of my mind - you are so incredibly sweet, and I really do not want to hurt you; and I couldn't have borne you asking in the morning if you could see me again... the look of disappointment on your face... your shoulders sagging, like a rejected puppy... my eyes mist over just thinking about it - but you know. And -

oh. You can't either, huh? I wonder why - but only briefly, because your words nearly choke me up - oh Richard -

and before I know it, I agree - like a more jaded version of Romeo and Juliet, we confess our passion for each other - if only we could...

"I know," I say, my throat suspiciously tight. "And - Richard - it would be you, too..."



I blink at you. What.... just happened??

Did we *declare* ourselves while simultaneously revoking the possibility of more?

A reverse-declaration?

A pre-rescinded proposition?

An advance annulled in advance?

Christ almighty, Jimmy...*shut up* and focus on the beautiful man between your thighs...

Only... if he keeps rubbing his cock against mine like that, it’s going to be very challenging to hold myself back from lunging at him...

I find my hand floating to your cheek. “Guess we’re a pair of idiots, then... With dark and terrible secret reasons?” I whisper, teasing. “Stay away from me, I’m dangerous... wait! Come closer, you can’t deny my allure... So in*tox*icating...” I murmur seductively.

“Well, we’re in for it now, Sebastian... and I for one cannot deny myself what I want for a moment longer...”

Uh oh... Richard is growing bolder by the moment...

My hands skim down your sides and hook onto the waistband of your briefs. My eyes lock onto yours, and I pull down the fabric - your cock pops out, as though giddy to be free. I keep pulling down your briefs slowly, and you cover my hands to tug them down, before kicking them onto the floor.

I can’t help but lick my lips when I look down. Mmm... every *inch* of you is beautiful, isn’t it, Sebastian? When I look back up, my fingers are grasping the fabric of my own briefs and pulling them down devastatingly slowly.



My beautiful prince full of paradoxes... how are you dangerous? What are your terrible and secret reasons? I kind of assumed it was a 'my parents can't know; I'm not ready to come out' kind of thing, but that's hardly dangerous... or are you some kind of ancient nobility, having to marry a rich duchess somewhere, and your father would kill you if he saw you with a man?

Hmmm, projecting a bit, are we, Sebastian?

Oh who the fuck cares... we both know and acknowledge we have one night, and we want to make it count... My unspoiled boy, my intoxicating prince, my Richard...

Who is getting braver by the minute - there is something about knowing you will only be with a person for one night that makes everything more acute, more intense, but also makes one more daring; as everything is now or never, there is no gradual building up - and no compromise, no embarrassment - pouring your entire potential relationship, however short or long it might have been, in a handful of hours, brings everything into sharp focus.

My cock jumps up eagerly at you and you lick your lips - I close my eyes and gasp at that; and when I open them again I see you are pulling down your own pants, slowly revealing my prize for the evening - oh. wow. You do not disappoint in any way.

I lean up, pull you down, and we're both naked on the bed, lying on our sides, arms embracing, legs intertwining, lips locking on to each other, cocks rubbing together so exquisitely...



It feels almost like we're moving in slow motion towards each other...

then we're in each other's arms...

legs sliding over each other, my leg around your hip...

my lips to your lips...

your cock pressed to mine...

with no barriers between us, it's a bloody *transcendent moment*...

all beautiful skin and hands and lips and *ohhh*...



I find myself languorously licking along your throat, ohhh, dangerous, no, *dangerous*...

I can smell your blood, I'm breathing in your intoxicating scent...

I pull back, moaning...

oh fuck... *no*, Richard... I need more time with him, *please*...

I kiss your lips again, press my tongue into your mouth...

*distract me*, my beautiful man...

My hand moves to your cock, and slides down.

My hips press against yours.

"Mmm... you feel so good..." I whisper. "What do you want to do with me, Sebastian?"



Oh - god - hand -

What do I want to do with you!?

What don’t I want to do with you is probably a shorter list...

Most of all I want to move to a magical realm where a night lasts a thousand years so I can spend the rest of my life worshipping you... I want to walk around town with you in the afternoon and go for a drink in a bar next to the canal and talk for hours about anything and everything... I want to meet your friends who will gently rib me and warn me they will kill me if I hurt you... I want you to show me your favourite film and I want to see your eyes glance at me as you try to see what I think... I want to get out some book of romantic poetry and read to you with a voice so full of conviction...

Wait. Sebastian. What the fuck are you doing, soldier.

You’re falling for him. Hard.

None of those thoughts have anything to do with a night of passion. You want a lifetime of passion. You want to stay with him in the morning, until there will be another night. And another. And another, until you’ve gone past the thousand-and-one into eternity and you just Do. Not.

First of all, you don’t do that kind of attachment. It’s just a brief crush. It will pass.

Second, you are not involving this sweet little boy into your shitty life. Keep him as far away as possible. He’ll go on to have a successful life, find another sweet boy to share it with, and be happy... and only occasionally think back of that night in Camden with the handsome soldier...

Why does that thought make me want to cry?! What the fuck is wrong with you, Sebastian?! Are you coming down with something?

Meanwhile, poor sweet boy is still staring at you with his big black eyes waiting for a bloody answer. Don’t waste your one night...

“I want to do everything with you... everything we both can think of... you are so incredibly sexy, Richard...”



It takes you a long time to answer what was intended as a sexy question... one meant to seduce and stir, so I could focus on what you were doing to me, rather than what I wanted to do to you... which was to sink my teeth into your neck like a sweet, juicy apple...

Only I don't even *want* to do it... I'm just so *hungry*...

I wish I'd had a treat before I started pursuing you...

I wish I had never laid eyes on you... then I wouldn't have to think of you being dead by morning.

Oh *what the fuck*, Moriarty?? Why are you coming down so maudlin all of a sudden?

You're a *killer*... down to your bones.

Always have been.

Will be for Eternity...





But not yet...

First I need to enjoy my big, beautiful soldier...

Who is not only *not* answering my question about what he wants to do with my naked body, but is in the throes of daydreaming (??) and looking sadder by the moment.

Seriously... did someone slip drugs into both our drinks to make us sad and mopey? (Is that the newest thing? And I suppose it would be dubbed 'Eeyoring', I think with exasperation.)

You gaze at me longingly and with regret. Finally you take a deep breath and answer.

OK... not too specific. But I can work with that.

"Everything we can both think of?" I gaze up at you. "Sounds like it's going to be a long night..." I laugh, and kiss your neck.

I continue to slide my hand over your cock slowly. "And I'm OK with that... you're so sexy, too..." I murmur into your ear.

"Do you want - to touch me, Sebastian?"



Do I want to - touch you? What the fuck - why am I not touching you already? What is wrong with you, Sebastian?

Something is definitely off. I mean, yes, I seem to have contracted a slight case of infatuation, but overall I seem to just be - not myself, at all. I keep getting distracted, drifting off, nearly hypnotized or mesmerized... and I feel much more intoxicated than I have any right to. No one slipped something in my drink, did they? No, I would have noticed... Not unless it was the barkeep herself, and why would she do such a thing? It's you... is it you? Why would you have such an odd effect on me, even if I'm falling for you? Surely I should then be all over you, rather than feeling half dazed...

But yes, touch you, god yes I want to... my hand is on your cock, my mouth in your neck, you moan against my hair and it makes me shiver. I make my way down, kissing that smooth alabaster chest again, until I reach your beautiful cock. Time to make friends...

I kiss your thigh, then your balls, then slowly kiss my way up your shaft to the top... lick my lips, lick gently around the tip...



You seem disoriented for a moment... hmm... I’m not directing any of my mesmerizing abilities at you, nor did I from the very beginning. It feels like a cheat - I much prefer to use my own allure and manipulation. Otherwise it gets *so boring*...

But - maybe it’s affecting you, anyway?

I push back my vampire ability to fascinate even further. I want you to just see me... the me I was before I was a vampire. Umm, nnnno... not *him*. But what does that leave...? Who was before I became *Moriarty*? There was a part of me, from a long, long time ago, who I needed Moriarty to protect. So I buried him deep. And later I named him Richard Brook...

So I just need to let myself truly be Richard for you... and you’ll just respond to him, not Moriarty manipulation or vampire fascination.

You look at me, and I think you see him... and then you touch my cock and kiss my neck, making me moan. You’re kissing my body like I’ve never been kissed. I certainly never let anyone touch me this way when I was human...

And then you’re taking my cock in your mouth... and the way you do it compared to how others have done it... is like night and day. It always felt perfunctory before... a means to an end. There is *nothing perfunctory* about how you kiss me and lick me. Like you see me as a treasure to be cherished and... adored.

I whimper and move my fingers through your hair.

Richard is such a sweetheart...

“Oh god... Sebastian... you feel so good,” I murmur. “Don’t stop... don’t *ever* stop...”

Images float through my mind of walking with you at night, holding your hand. Sleeping with you and waking up to your kiss...

Oh god...

Richard is falling for Sebastian...




Such a beautiful cock... you never know what you're going to get, but this complements your beauty perfectly. Decent size, though not overly large, perfectly formed, so elegant and so sensitive to my attentions...

You make the most wonderful sounds, and your words are so guileless and beautiful; don't worry my prince, I won't ever stop if you don't want me to...

I swerve my tongue around your head and you whimper, I slowly take you deep and you mewl... Richard, my Richard, I wish I could do this for ever, find out every sound that I'm capable of extracting from you...

Somehow a good bit of cocksucking seems to have cleared my head - it must be the acuteness of it, the direct contact between cock and head; I know what I'm doing when I'm here; I get direct feedback; the world is simple.

However, my own cock is gagging for attention as well - oh god Richard... a beautiful boy like you...

I slowly move my mouth off your cock, leave it in the care of my hand as I move back up to your mouth and kiss it eagerly.

"Richard... my beautiful, gorgeous Richard...

I would love to fuck... have you ever fucked a man? Have you ever been fucked?"



Oh god... I've barely had sex as a vampire, and it nearly blows my head off to have someone touch me like that... not someone... *you*.

It's not that sexual desire goes away for vampires... it's that everything takes a backseat to that all-consuming hunger...

So it goes deeper, and we can do without... but the desire is still there... deep in my cells...

Like feelings, apparently... who knew I had them?? I was barely aware of them when I was alive!!

And now I'm carrying on at your mouth on my cock like an adolescent schoolboy.

And then you stop, *no*, but you're kissing my mouth, *yes*...

*My Richard*, I think faintly as I try to focus on what you're saying to me.

Oh *god*... Sebastian...

"I have... both," I pant. "Just - not that much... and it's been a long time..."

I gaze at you dreamily. "And... n-never with anyone I've wanted like this..." I murmur. "Sebastian, I... want to feel you inside..."

God, I'm so dying to fuck you, I'm going to leap out of my skin... but I already know I'm going to drink from you when it happens. And I need some time with my Sebastian first...

My Sebastian?? Oh, bloody hell... I'm so *fucked.*



Your eyes - so sweet and dreamy - but again with that hint of wistfulness... and a sense of - shock?

Your words set me on fire though - Sebastian, I want to feel you inside...

Have hotter words ever been spoken? Oh god Richard - bemused angel fallen to earth, transcendent nocturnal beauty - I will fuck you so good... you’ll wank to it for years to come. (as will I... god, as will I.)

I brought lube and condoms, but they’re in my jacket. “Do you have...” I start, and you fluster “Yeah...”, turn, fumble around in a bedside cabinet as I kiss your back and stroke your luscious bottom, pert, perfectly formed, so incredibly seductive... I moan as I pull you close, rub my cock against you - oh fuck you feel good... I want to lose myself inside you, never let go...

You push back slightly, rub yourself against my cock and I shiver with arousal - Richard...



I startle at your question - this is real. We are *doing* this. I wish I could tell you that disease and infection are non-issues for me - but I'm hardly going to divulge that I'm a vampire plotting to drain you, but taking the scenic route on the way to your demise.

I move towards the nightstand to dig through the drawer, and your hands and lips are everywhere... and then your cock, rubbing against me... *fuck*... my eyes close momentarily, and my cock hardens in response. I push back against you, wanting to feel you... I meant what I said - I do want to feel you inside. I believe that is what would happen between Sebastian and Richard, so that's what I want. And I want it with a desire I didn't think was possible...

Overcome, my hands fumble and drop the lube on the floor. I stop myself from moving at quicksilver speed to catch it, and instead lean down over the floor to pick it up. This appears to be an angle you can't resist, and you press yourself against me. I laugh, partly hanging off the bed. "Are you going to let me up?" I ask playfully, looking over my shoulder at you and grinning.



"Do I have to?" I grin back. It's so good to see you grin - you look about twelve, but you look happy; your entire face lights up - I want to see you smile more. Right after I make you groan and come...

I pull you back up onto the bed and you put down a tube of lube and a condom, blushing incredibly sweetly. I kiss you longingly, stroking that smooth back, as I open the tube. I move down, kissing your neck and chest, and you turn over again, offering your delicious bottom to me - oh god, this is happening...

I kiss my way down your neck, your muscular back, your hips, your bum... put some lube on my finger and gently move towards your entrance, leaning on my elbow, looking to see how you respond. You seem to like my gentle fingering just fine... your cock is hard, your eyes are closed, your mouth open. I add some more lube, slide my finger slowly inside you. So tight - but something seems odd - like there's something I'm missing - oh never mind, concentrate, Moran...



Damn... your *smile*... and I thought *you* were in danger of being charmed by me.

You pull me back up and kiss me, and then I'm turning around for you because I *want* you and I can't *wait* any more.

You're applying lube to me, opening me up. It feels good to let out a slow exhalation, unnecessary though it may be...

I let out a soft moan. "So good..." I murmur. "I want to *feel* you, Sebastian..."

Soon you're going to be inside me...

Soon I'll be *your Richard*... if only for a little while...



How do we do this? I spotted the expiry date on the condom - it’s three years old. That doesn’t mean anything of course - but it’s been a while for you and I want this to be wonderful...

I’ve lubed you and myself up good, and your arse is so tempting, but I want to see your face...

I’ve somehow gone sickeningly romantic. But it fits; it fits this sweet shy beautiful boy with the enchanting smile...

I turn you over, kiss you again, pull you on top of me, lift your hips. You get up on your knees and I manoeuvre my cock in position - this is it - Richard...



You're hesitating... why are you hesitating??

I'm being turned over again, and there's your beautiful face, and - *oh*. Yes, we can do *this*... even better. I can look into your eyes and see your expression change...

I feel the head of your cock at my entrance, feel you straining to stay still...

I push down over your head, closing my eyes and moaning softly.

God... you're inside me, and I need *more*, and there's still so far to go...

I open my eyes, grasp your shoulders and slowly begin to push down...



Oh god in heaven, little baby Jesus, and all the bloody saints, this is... fuck, Richard... your beautiful face looking down on me, and then your eyes close - you moan - oh my god this is too much, and it’s only just starting - you feel so good-

Your eyes open again and I’m staring into the depths of the universe before the stars were put in, pulled out of my body into oblivion, then smashed into my body again as you move and slide further down on my cock, which is the most intense feeling imaginable...

You’re leaning on my shoulders and looking down at me with such hunger, it’s almost frightening - like you’re really about to devour me - and I’d let you; I’m mesmerized, hypnotized, tantalized...

My hands are on your hips, and I’m concentrating on not gripping, just gently holding, stroking your side, up to your arm, down to your hand...

I moan, and it’s not until I hear it that I realize I’m moaning your name.



Oh god, your eyes... I thought this would be better?? Are you... *falling* for me? Oh no no no... you *can’t*...

Staring at you *longing* for me unleashes longing for you right back... but when a vampire longs for someone, things are going to get bloody... because I want to *merge* with you Sebastian, I want to have *all* of you... your cock, your heart, your lifeblood...

My jaw is *aching* to snap around your neck... I can barely restrain myself. Your hands - grasping my hips, and then sliding gently along my arm - are so soothing... yes, focus on his beautiful skin, Richard...

You moaning *my name* (well, Richard’s) is far less soothing... It feels like the blood inside me heats up, and is about to make my skin burst into flames.

I wanted to feel not-cold for a night... I am practically aflame with lust, desire, yearning...

My gentle descent onto your cock has sped up... halfway down, I pause, bite my lip, stare down at you.

“It’s been *so long*, Sebastian...” I whisper. “But you were worth the wait...”

I push down further with a groan until you’re buried in me. My eyes widen and we stare at each other, totally still.



Your hunger for me only seems to grow as you look at me longer, slide further onto me. It’s mutual, my Richard... I’d eat you up if I could...

You’re moving down slowly, so slowly, and it feels so incredibly intensely good -

I was worth the wait, my sweet prince? I wish you’d come for me sooner - claimed me as your own the first time you saw me - but - no, then this night would be in the past, no, worst idea ever...

This night needs to be now, and last forever...

You push down, all the way down, oh god I’m inside you, all of me, and it does feel like it, like I am lost inside you, helplessly shackled, between my cock and my eyes both lost in you, there is no way I could move even if I wanted to.

“Richard... you feel - so incredibly good...” I manage to moan.

Your eyes seem to get bigger, black with lust, and I’m drowning... drowning in sensation.



I have never felt anything like this... in life or in unlife...

I have never wanted anyone like this...

We both seem frozen, lost, found, helpless...

trapped in this moment of losing ourselves and finding each other...

like insects swooning in sticky amber...

(stupid insects! wake *up*!)

I dig deep to find the will to break this moment, this stasis, and I begin to move.

I rise on your cock, pause - where I'm almost imprisoned in another moment lost in your eyes...

and I sink down on your cock, moaning all the way.

At the bottom, with your cock buried to the hilt in me, I throw my head back, lips parted.

I look back at you, my hands moving up your chest and face, and caressing your hair.

"Do you - feel this, too?" I hear myself say.

Fuck, *Richard*... *no*!!



"Yes... god, yes... Richard... I've - god -"


Stop this right this instant. He's falling for you, and you are falling for him, but you do not do that. You can't. What if he decides tomorrow that he wants to be *boyfriends*?


NO! Stop it Sebastian! You made your choice long ago. You do not do love. You can't, and you don't want to. Remember what happened last time?


Right then. Stop acting like some lovelorn teenager and just fuck him like only you can.

"You feel so good -"

It's a cheap cop-out, it's not what I wanted to say, not what you wanted to hear, and I feel fucking sad and guilty about it...

Fucking hell, Sebastian...



I would sigh with relief but I don't need to breathe...

You were going to say something, I *know* it... thank Christ you didn't...

That was bloody close. Richard! We do *not* look for declarations of undying love from our prey. Not that I disapprove of cruelty, far from it - but *this* prey is *so sweet*... so *protective* and *big* and *blue-eyed*...

and he *wants* me... for more than just one night, I think, feeling stung.

So why won't he admit it??

Oh, fuck *off*, Richard... you are *not allowed to speak* any more.

Just give the soldier a delicious send-off to the great beyond... and be on your way.

I start to increase my pace slightly, and my fingers dig into your shoulders. I arch my back as I move, and push my hips down onto yours.

I'll show you 'feels good', I think, eyes narrowing.

"Mmm... you feel *so good* inside me... You have such a gorgeous cock, Sebastian," I whisper, blushing.



You don't look disappointed - almost relieved.

Yeah - neither of us is ready for that - but then both of us thought it, didn't we? What's going on, Richard? Why am I falling for you so fucking hard? I've seen tons of bricks drop more subtly. There's just something - something enchanting, like I've been waiting all my life for this one night, to meet this one man, who will show me the truth of life and love; who will show me the reality behind the thin veneer of everyday, a reality often glimpsed but never faced full-on...

Right, that's it, soldier, enough thinking for one night, your brain is obviously overheated, you're rambling.

And you're looking at me, so intensely, moving so exquisitely, making me groan with pleasure, making my hands tighten on your hips as your fingers dig into my shoulders.

Richard... I want you...

You're literally fucking him. What do you mean you want him?

I want to take you home I want to feed you your favourite food I want to make you laugh until you cry I want to play card games with you in my kitchen I want to stroll past the river with you I want to know everything about you everything that makes you happy that makes you sad that makes you angry I want everything with you Richard...


I am falling in love, that's what's wrong. And I never have - I have those little crushes on people for one night, or half a night, and then they are over - but this is nothing like that, it's a blaze where normally I've only had tealights, and I have no clue how to deal with it.

It's just some boy. You don't even know him. You've exchanged about ten sentences. You can't fall in love with someone just after a dance and a bit of kissing. It's just one of your crushes, and you're coming down with something, that's why it seems so intense.

You move down onto me again, and you are blushing still, why are you blushing? How dare you? Surely it's illegal for a boy of your complexion, your beauty, to blush, highlighting your cheekbones, your cuteness, your dark dark eyes...

I groan at the feeling. It's so fucking intense, so intense - almost too much -

Bloody hell. Well done, Moran. You're here with the sexiest guy you've laid eyes on in... well, as long as you can remember, and you are losing yourself in maudlin thoughts instead of enjoying the fucking excellent fuck you're getting. Way to sabotage yourself.

I moan, gasp at the sensation, stroke your beautiful cock, standing proudly erect and poorly neglected.



For someone whose cock is buried in premium arse, you seem awfully distracted...

and sad... and frustrated... and *sad*...

all since I asked *that question*...


Richard, you know you're one of my favourite alter egos... but I swear if you fuck this up any more, I will stick you so far into my mind map I won't be able to *find* you again. Let me enjoy the soldier in his last few moments and *stop trying to make us both feel something when he's about to die*!

Moving up and down on your cock has made you groan so deliciously...

Promising... I'm about to increase the pace again... when suddenly you remember my cock and you stroke it.

I let out a strangled moan, and my head drops back. "Oh god... Sebastian... *fuck*..."

Without thinking about it, I'm sliding up and down on your cock, setting a slow, steady pace.

When I slide up your cock, you stare at me like a lost treasure (the unholy grail?)... when I pause at the top, you hold your breath... when I push down on your cock, you groan loudly.

oh god, oh god... why the fuck did I stop having sex?

Because it's *never* like this...

It's only ever been like this with you...

I hold your head in my hands, twisting my fingers through your hair.

"God... *fuck me*..." I moan.



Yes - yes Richard, you’re right, let’s concentrate on the fuck, stop wallowing.

And it’s a good fuck... you may be out of practice, but you know what you are doing. God, you do... and you are so hot...

You move tantalizingly slowly, making my cock feel every little move so acutely, looking at me so heartbreakingly longingly -

‘Fuck me...’

Can do, my prince... can do...

I moan, grab your hips, and start moving with you; a primal sensual dance in perfect balance, we’re so attuned, of course we are, and I’m carried away with the intensity, push you up and pull you down, over and over and over again... your eyes close, your head moves back, you groan my name, your fingers dig into my shoulders - time is suspended as we move, writhe, meld together closer than I’ve been with anyone in years; this will never end, it will go on for ever and always, Sebastian and Richard 4eva... lost in pleasure older than time...



And soon as I moan, implore, demand for you to fuck me, something clicks between us...

Our bodies take over, throwing aside the maudlin overthinking that we both seem to have been dragged down by.

Thoughts are driven out of my head, and I’m exquisitely aware of your hands clutching my hips, your cock pushing into me, your eyes devouring me, and our bodies are so *so* deliciously in sync, and you feel *big* and *possessive* and *mmmm*...

we writhe against each other...

I move against you sinuously...

lust and excitement mount...

and as we move faster and faster to the climax of our enmeshment, our sounds fill the room...

gasps, muffled groans, whimpers...

our bodies smacking against each other...

the mattress creaking, the headboard thumping against the wall...

“Oh god... Sebastian...” I cry out. “*Fuck*...”



Yes, that's what I wanted, you shouting my name in delight, gasping, groaning, and grasping in pleasure, because I'm fucking you so good, and just you wait, Richard, what I'll do to you after this... you'll be crying out even louder...

I look at you, your face screwed up in ecstasy, and that pushes me over the threshold - my fingers dig into your hips as I bury myself as deep as I can, and I feel all sensation in my body contract into my balls, then push itself out into you and it's glorious - I think I am shouting your name now, and god, and fuck, and some incoherent sounds....

I haven't come this intensely in - god - I don't know - not important - so good -

Richard - Richard - Richard...



Oh.... god... oh... *god*...

I’ve never felt anything like this before...

lust and longing and delirium swirl though me like nepenthe... I have forgotten everything before this shining moment, there is only you you you... *Sebastian*...

I’m getting close as you’re stroking me hard, *so close* to a pleasure that whispers ‘come... come...’, beckons me close to the edge, closer, *closer*… and then you’re convulsing and coming, coming inside me, and I wish I could truly feel it Sebastian, I wish I could feel you in me with no barriers... in a daze I hear you call my name, over and over again, and it sounds so sweet on your lips, yes, I’ll be your Richard, *yes*... please, let me have this beautiful soldier, my sweet Sebastian...



Oh god - it feels like it will never end, the shudders, the spasms, each of them shivering pleasure through every cell of my body...

I pant, vision slowly returning to my eyes, and the first thing I see is the face of an angel with eyes of infinite black, staring at me with such yearning, such desire...

... aftershudder...

"Richard..." I whisper.

"That was... god, that was amazing..."

I want to say more; I want to thank you, to call you my dear Richard, say that it was the best orgasm in living memory, but I don't do any of those things; I hold the condom as you slide off me, tie a knot in it and throw it next to the bed, then turn back to you and take you in my arms, kiss you, deeply, sweetly, trying to say with my kiss what I won't allow my words to say.

I take your cock, beautifully erect still, start moving my hand across it - so hard yet flexible, feeling so good...



Each shiver, each shudder of yours is double-edged and scores me deeply... it's so delicious to see you come undone with pleasure you have received through my body (dare I say my heart? no, you *don't* and *stop it* now...)... but each one feels like a goodbye, taking me further and further away from this night. I did decide I would drain you while I was fucking you - I will give you an ecstatic death-swoon like you can't even imagine, my darling...

it will hurt, and it will hurt *so beautifully*...

your final moments will be dark-delicious-*sublime*, and I will carry the memory with me always...


You withdraw from my body and I want to protest and draw you back to me...

condom discarded (the floor, darling?), you return to my arms and it's so beautiful to be kissing you again... your lips are sweet against mine, sweet and hungry still, and you begin to stroke me again...

all thoughts of the end are swept away and I move with your hand, sighing and moaning against your neck and grasping your hair...



So - that was my orgasm. I should now get to feel less smitten, yes? Not just want to hold you in my arms and kiss you all night, not be utterly enchanted by your little gasps, your moans, your involuntary moves, your hands on me? Or maybe it takes a bit longer? Though it usually doesn't - I perform my tasks, whatever I need to do to leave my partner happy; but I perform them without much passion - that's usually evaporated with my orgasm, replaced by a sympathetic benevolence that will transform into boredom before long.

I doubt that any such thing will happen here - I'm as passionate about your orgasm as I was about mine, and I can't imagine ever getting bored with you - this night is already too short...



I find my lips pressed to your neck, then my tongue is licking hard against your throat, and then my teeth are slowly - pushing - down - I have to tear myself off you with a cry. I gaze at your pulsing throat. *WANT*. But then you breathe my name like it’s a holy word, and squeeze my cock as you stroke hard and fast, and I’m shivering, shivering against you, convulsing, crying out as I come so hard in shuddering bursts.

“*Sebastian*” I gasp. Why am I gasping when I don’t need to breathe....?

I press myself against you, lay my head against your chest.

I have never felt so alive...



You're kissing me and then - a cry - god, Richard - I can feel your desire like it's mine, like I'm caught up in you still, like we are one body; I'm panting and sighing your name as I stroke your cock, not long now, I can feel the pressure building so deliciously, it's like I'm working towards a second orgasm myself - you're holding me, shuddering, and then there it is, like a firework exploding into a million bright colours, your orgasm, and I moan as I feel it...



You're pressed against my chest, panting, slowly relaxing; and I feel that too...

I had heard of afterglow, but assumed it was just the pleasant warm feeling after sex. This however - this feels different; I feel a warm glow inside me that lights up when I look at you - I feel such affection for you, such sympathy...

I hold you close, as your breathing goes back to normal, as you snuggle closer to me. You're so sweet... I just want to hold you as close as I can, kiss your soft hair, stroke your shoulder- I don't know what's coming over me, I never feel so caring, so solicitous, but I want you to feel good... and more than that, I want you to feel good with me, because of me...



I can remember what it was like for my heart to pound... I almost feel it now, like an echo. A reverberation from the past, when blood coursed through my veins and my heartbeat told me when I was stimulated, or in danger... I'm feeling a hunger for more, and it's making me almost forget longing for your blood.

You're kissing my hair and stroking my skin, and it's *so sweet*... I feel a warm glow in my chest, and tingles along my skin.

I don't know how you're making me *feel* like this, considering as a human I was like cold, polished obsidian... this should not be possible. And there's not exactly a vampire database I can consult. (There really should be... Hmm....)

I suppose I could have asked my maker, had I not torn his head from his neck... and his limbs from his body... and then put them through a shredder. An overly hasty move, perhaps. From what I've learned, it's close to impossible to rise against your maker, as they have command over you by virtue of gifting you eternal life. I don't get it, either... but it's moot because there's no fucking way anyone gets to have power over me. I don't care how many centuries they were swooping about, being macabre and scaring peasants.

I sigh. I seem to be getting the hang of breath-based expressions... it freaks people out less if they see some breathing, and well, I've been a lot closer to you for longer than to my average victim...

I gaze up at you with my shy, sweet smile, which must be very familiar to you by now.

"I was starting to think - I would never touch anyone again... I'm so glad I was wrong..." I duck my head and return to laying against your chest. "Do you - need to go, Sebastian? Or... do you want to stay for a drink?" I ask, holding my breath - unnecessarily, but strangely enough it rings true... I’m feeling - *anxious*.

You won't make it out the door... but I don't want the end to go down like that.

I want that beautiful death-embrace I envisioned...

for you...

for me...

for -




Chapter Text

Your hand in mine - I will be brave
Take me from this earth

And end this night - this, the end of life

From the dark I feel your lips
And I taste your bloody kiss



"I got time for a drink, yeah..."

You're not moving to get up, nor do I want to let you out of my arms. You're so sweet and small, your smile so shy and cute, and your hair all dishevelled is just adorable. I can't stop kissing it, but then I also want to look at your face and...

Jesus Christ, Moran. Write him a poem while you're at it, why don't you...

"Why did you think you'd never touch anyone again?"

Eh - yes, I wanted to know why you think that - but isn’t it a bit much to just ask? On the other hand, you did say... I'll leave it up to you, my sweet adorable Richard. I can't stop touching you, for one...



Is this what's known as bliss? When you're feeling all glowy and euphoric and content? I've never actually felt it before... or maybe I did as a child, and I've forgotten...

Every time you stroke me or kiss me or ruffle my hair with a grin, I want to fall into paroxysms of pleasure and delight.

But then you ask me a question. Well, shit... how am I going to answer this, *Richard*?

And what does it matter, anyway? Just make something up!

*No*... for whatever reason, I don't want to fill your final moments with lies...

"Umm... just - ended badly for other people..." I mumble.

Well... that's not untrue...

"But... I just couldn't resist you..."

Also true...

"Sorry I interrupted your dancing with that girl... She seemed... nice...?"

OK, those were blatant lies. Girl was a total bitch. (In fact, I may go back to bite her...) And I'm not at all sorry I put myself between you. You're *mine*...


Umm... what??



It’s so lovely, lying here with you in our own little corner of the night. No one will disturb us, for now. It seems safe, and warm, and comfortable - like I’ve been lying here with you so many times already, after a great fuck, whispering truths in the dark that would never be spoken in the harsh light of day...


‘ended up badly for other people’? How the fuck... how could being with you end badly?

Couldn’t resist me...

Wait. You’re not the trophy boy of some mob boss, are you? Prone to go dancing on his own and then picking up guys who end up disposed of by his lover’s guys? Suddenly the room feels not quite as safe any more. But - I can’t see you as a trophy boy... you’re too sweet, too guileless - unless that’s an act? No - no one could be that great an actor... I’m good at reading people...

Although - there is something -

I try to put my finger on it, but it keeps vexingly just out of reach.

“I’m so glad you interrupted my dance. I had a much better dance partner after that... and he’s not just brilliant at dancing...”



I’ve never had this before... lying with someone... touching... talking... there’s also no one I would have *wanted* to do this with in a million years...

god, the thought of a million years. The number of times I thought about a fiery demise - sunlight would work, but it takes a while and some serious determination. We don’t just burst into flames right away, despite what films and books say... sunlight just grows increasingly harsh and uncomfortable over time until the smouldering begins... and eventually, *fwoosh*. Of course I’m used to that from being Irish...

Now instead of fiery demises, I find myself idly imagining how life would feel different if I had *this*... which is, of course, ridiculous. I’m not going to saddle myself with a pet - no, you can’t have him, *Richard*.

Although he is awfully *sweet*.


all right, Richard - you’re up.

I blush, and push your shoulder. “Ohh... *stop*... you’re the one who’s brilliant...” I press a muffled giggle into your shoulder.

“You know I was just being nice about that girl, don’t you?” I say playfully. “She was... kind of a *bitch*... and I’m a *much* better dancer. I wanted to tell her ‘Dancing isn’t all shaking your hair and your bits, sweetheart’...” I laugh helplessly into your chest. “I’m sorry - now I’m - the bitch,” I choke out in between laughs.



Oooh, bitchy Richard? How devilishly appealing...

"You're right though - I thought she looked nice, but the way she pushed you away after you'd fallen and apologized - that was damn bitchy.

Heh... you literally fell for me..." I grin, making you giggle even more. Your giggle is a thing of beauty - sweet, infectious, slightly naughty; your teeth shining and your eyes gleaming. I must be grinning from ear to ear as I cuddle you close, kiss those adorable cheekbones and your giggling mouth.

"You are an amazing dancer, though. Have you done ballet or something?"



*God*, I can't remember the last time I laughed... unless it was to scare someone, or to be gleefully evil about something... but just laughing with pleasure?? I couldn't recall an occasion if I tried... not after childhood, anyway.

I look at you wistfully. If I had someone to smile at me like you are, I would have laughed a lot more... god, your face just *lights up*... who needs the stupid sun, I find myself thinking. Shine on, my beautiful soldier...

"Hmm? Oh... some... my mam couldn't afford serious training, as I would have liked. So I took classes at our community centre, but mostly I was self-taught through videos and books. I practiced at home every day..." I shrug self-consciously. I never divulged that to *anyone*. "And then when I was eighteen and making some money, I made up for lost time and hired a private teacher for classical and contemporary ballet. She was impressed with what I'd managed mostly on my own. Well, I was never going to be a professional dancer, anyway... but I love it, and - sometimes it has its uses..." I wink at you and give you a cheeky smile.



Ah, yes, that explains the grace and strength.

"You're a great dancer. I loved dancing with you." I'd love to dance with you again - but I can't, of course I can't - stop it Moran - don't you dare start trying to find get-out clauses, like it doesn't count as a date if you just go dancing and not shagging - as if that would ever happen. You'd set the club on fire with the flying sparks.

"I had ballroom dancing classes - I hated it, but my parents made me go. Hour after hour with the most boring girls imaginable, going through the same boring steps... ugh. Ballet would have been better - it's great for your balance, strength, and coordination. It's not like I go waltzing every Sunday afternoon..."



"Oh, I don't know... I think ballroom dancing sounds like fun, if it were with the right partner..." I smile up at you. Then I realize what I've said and my eyes widen. What the hell are you doing, Richard? Inviting the man who just fucked your arse to go *ballroom dancing* with you? Should he pick you up in a limo? Or a horse-drawn carriage??

"Oh! N-not that I was *suggesting*..." I cover my face. "S-sorry. So, about that drink..." I say sheepishly. "My friend is a bit of a lush, so there's a well-stocked liquor cabinet. I know there's red wine and beer and... I think I saw some whisky... what would you like?" I move to get up.



I would say 'whatever you're having', but I've seen you drink, so - no.

"A beer would be nice, thanks," I reply, moving to sitting. "And I'd love to go waltzing with you tomorrow afternoon - you think the Ritz are having a string orchestra on? I do hope you have a morning suit I can borrow - I seem to have left mine at my parents' place."

You giggle again - my heart seems to both swell and be squeezed every time you do that - and leave the bedroom, come back with two beers, nice and cold. "I didn't know if you wanted a glass - I didn't bring one, but I could get you one; the cabinet is just outside..." you stumble, blushing again - yes, that has about the same effect on me as your giggles.

"It's fine," I smile, and reach out to take the beer from you. You put yours on your nightstand - I'm not sure if you even like it, or if you just got it so I wouldn't feel like I was drinking alone. I raise it to you, say "Cheers," and take a big sip.

"Is there somewhere I could have a cigarette?"

I hate that these days it's not commonly acceptable to light a fag in your partner's bed any more...



You sweep my gaffe under the rug seamlessly. You're so *fucking sweet*. I want to eat you up with a spoon. Oh, who needs a spoon... I just want to *devour* you.

While I'm off in the kitchen fetching our beers, I remember what it's like to be alone... and the only reason I'm OK with it is because I'm coming back to you in a moment. Seriously... did someone slip something in my drink? If not for moroseness, for falling in - *don't say it*. I am incapable of such things, thank you very much - I certainly don't fall for humans that I picked up in a bar and got buggered by. But oh my, was it a *pleasure*... I can't wait to fuck you, but I'll have to wait a reasonable amount of time for a human male to recover from an orgasm... and then dear Richard may just surprise you with how well he tops, my darling...

When I return with the beers, you're smiling at me and I just want to jump on you. But I hold myself back for the moment...

"Oh sure. You can light up here, my friend wouldn't mind..."

I haven't smoked in an age... suddenly I want nothing more than to be smoking with you in bed, and I climb in next to you.



"Really? Are you sure?" Oh, that's welcome... Even if you're just being sweet and will spend the morning airing the place out and spraying Febreze, it's certainly better than having to leave this comfortable nest and your presence...

I get my cigarettes out of my trousers and light up, look around for something to use as an ashtray. You fluster again and dash to the living room, come back with a clean ashtray, hand it to me. I hold out my packet, though I don't think you smoke - to my surprise you take one. I do hope this is not more bravado and you do actually smoke, lest I have to save you from a coughing fit in a bit.

I hold up the lighter and light the cigarette for you - and you're definitely a smoker. With practised ease you draw the smoke in your lungs, fall back against the pillow pushed against the headboard, and blow it out.

Wow. I didn't realize smoking looked so sexy... these days it's a quick activity huddled under an awning out of the rain with people shivering because they have put their coats in the cloakroom, which can be an advantage, as you get to lend your jacket to a particularly attractive and scantily-dressed smoker, but I much preferred the days when you could lasciviously suck at your cigarette whilst holding the eye of the guy on the other side of the bar, who then had the perfect excuse to come up to you and ask for a light.

Anyway - you make it look particularly enchanting. The ashtray perched between us, we smoke our cigarettes, not speaking, just stroking our fingers against each other, occasionally looking at each other and smiling, like the post-coital ritual of two lovers who are utterly at ease in each other's company.



Well, this is a first... I've never done so much running around, playing the genteel host for prey before... (No, seriously... what the *fuck*, Richard...)

But when I return with the ashtray, you're sitting up and looking *so hot*, and then I don't mind so much and I'm picturing fucking you again, and *just wait a little longer, I said*...

I climb back into bed *again* and you light a cigarette and watch apparently in fascination as I smoke it...

ohh.. you *like* this other side of Richard, don't you...

the one who says snarky things about bitches who want to sink their claws into you, and can't dance for shit...

the one who lights up like a sexy fucker, and has clearly smoked in bed naked with a man before...

the one who is all mysterious and cryptic and quite possibly a danger to you...

well, just wait, darling... it only gets darker from here.

As we're smoking we fall into a hushed silence... neither of us speak, and there is only the sound of the sweet sizzle of burning cigarettes... the gentle tap of ash... the breathy inhale and exhale from our lungs...

and when our fingers touch, I don't have to pretend to smile shyly...

and I have a sinking feeling in my chest that this is not heading in the direction I thought, and oh my fucking god Richard, *what - have - you - done*??

When our cigarettes have been smoked and stubbed out, and the ashtray has been moved to the nightstand, we sit in bed staring at each other. You seem as unsure as I do about what to do next.

"Don't go," I burst out. "N-not yet. I really like you, Sebastian..."

I want to pour out everything I feel and my throat is closing up, and this is *not supposed to happen to vampires*...

god help me...

This is so unbelievably adolescent I want to squirm, but it's as true as sunsets are beautiful and kittens are cute and fuckfuckfuck, I *fucking like you*...



Where did that come from? Oh my sweet angel...

I didn’t know I had a protective side, but apparently I do, and it’s quite fierce. My arms move around you of their own accord, and I pull you close.

“I’m not going anywhere”

(oh really? Staying with him until he’s stable and confident, are you? You’ll have to leave in the morning; what are you going to do if he asks you not to then?) “Richard... I’m right here...

I really like you too...”

(Oh SURE!!! Give him more hope! Reassure him, get one more shag out of him, and break his heart in the morning!)

Who says I’ll break his heart? He said it could only be one night himself!

(Yeah, that’s why he’s sticking to you like clingfilm. You are making a mess of this. You should leave now, before he decides you’re the love of his life. Stick to the confident ones in the future, it’s less complicated.)

But he’s so sweet... and he wants me here... it’s only for tonight, we both know that...

“I’m not leaving. I’m way too comfortable...”

I kiss your hair, still holding you close. I feel like I could do this forever...



Oh god, things are spinning out of control... you've taken to holding me and kissing my hair and whispering reassurances...

which is making Richard even more *clingy* and - *gah*

(Richard, you are fucking *everything up*. How are you going to kill him if you feel attached to him?

If you don't fix this, I'm never letting you out again...)




God, now I'm mentally shouting at my alter ego, who's clamming up, the obstinate little fucker.

Just. *Won*-der-ful...

"You're spending the night?" I beam up at you, as I snuggle against your shoulder. "So we can - do more?"

You chuckle and ask what me what I'd like to do.

"Mmm... Sebastian... what don't I want to do with you?" I ask with a sly smile.



You're so delicious, so beautiful, so sweet... I'm sure I can revive interest in very little time, my gorgeous Richard.

"Mmm, I like that smile - that smile that indicates a mischievous side... is there a mischievous side to you, Richard? Can it come out to play?"



I grin at your teasing. When was the last time I was *teased*? No one would live long who dared try, but somehow... when you do it, it's adorable.

"Mischievous? No, no - deadly serious, actually..." I gently tap your lips with my finger, and watch with delight as you grab my finger to kiss it. "Mmm... but I *could* come out to play... " I purr.

"Is that what you want, Sebastian?" I say, my voice returning to innocence. I bat my eyelashes at you.

I can't stop smiling...



Oh now you're putting it on... batting your eyelashes - you little imp. I'm glad to see playful Richard...

"I like playful Richard... he smiles a lot, and happy Richard is my favourite Richard..."

Good God Sebastian... call a dentist, your teeth must be rotting with all this sweetness...

"Why not, we have all night... how would deadly serious Richard like to play?" I smile.



I half-laugh, half-growl in response.

Oh, shit... once Richard starts to play...

where does it end?

Quick like a bunny, I straddle your lap and wrap my arms around your neck.

"How would Richard want to play?" I muse. "I think... Richard might enjoy tying you up..."

I press my lips to yours searchingly...searching for what? When I break off from the kiss, you're looking at me with longing. "But if that's n-not your thing, I can think of something else..." I say in a rush.

I stare into your eyes... and see forever staring back at me.

oh... god...

it's happened.

It's impossible, but *it's happened*...










Oh? Oh. Richard...

I like that side...

Kinky Richard...

Apparently my smouldering eyes are not enthusiastic enough, or you’re taken aback at your own courage, flusteringly taking back your words...

No, my dear...

All teasing has disappeared from my voice when I reply.

“I think I might enjoy that... very much.”

Wow, Sebastian, that’s a bedroom voice and a half. Well, what can I say. I am very much into that, and seeing that side in you - my sweet prince - is quite intriguing...

I swallow.



I'm still reeling from my *holyfuck* realization when you inform me that you would in fact enjoy being tied up by me.


The vampire who's biding his time until he drains you dry, but oops! he just fell for you.

(I'm very angry with you, Richard...)

I lower my lashes, and look back up slyly. Oh, you *like* that... I'll have to remember that move.

"Well, that sounds like it could be *very* fun," I say innocently. "I just have to find something to use..."

I climb out of bed, looking over my shoulder at you as I head to the closet.

You clasp your hands under your head, and look back at me flirtatiously.

Mmm... best idea ever.

I'm not dealing with the draining you dry part of the evening yet... I have other things on my mind right now, like your sexy smile... the body that is soon going to be at my mercy... and what the hell am I going to use to restrain you. I don't exactly skulk around with a BDSM travel bag.

I slide open the door, peruse the contents. "Let's see... Ties, belts... We'll see what works?" I say, and walk back to the bed with a handful of the aforementioned accessories. I drop them on the mattress in a heap.

"Do you want to - now? Or hang out for longer?"

I climb into bed, straddle your lap and kiss you.




Incredibly hot, a great dancer, too adorable for words, sexy, and kinky!?

Did someone read my Christmas list?

Sure, gothy crowd are often open to experimenting... but usually people expect me to tie them down, because, well, I look big and bad, and attract people who are into strong, muscular - and usually dominant - men.

Not that I mind - not in the slightest - but... if I have to choose, I do prefer being the person tied up. And being tied up by this mysterious sweet little boy with such hidden depths... well. I can't wait to see what you'll be like when I'm restrained and at your mercy...

My cock twitches to let me know that he can't wait either.

Tieable materials are dumped onto the bed, making my breath go shallower as I peruse them. Then I have a lap full of Richard, a mouth full of Richard, a mind full of Richard... (and a heart full of... Shut. Up)

I wrap my arms around you, pull you closer, feel that your cock is also perking up again already.

"I think I'm ready when you are... Richard..." I look up at you, my mouth slightly open, licking my lips as I drown in those endless black eyes...



If I thought you were smitten with me before... when I drop the makeshift restraints next to you, it seems to ramp up your desire to the nth degree.

The kiss I give you in response is sweet.

Then you pull me to you... gaze at me... lick your lips...

The next kiss I give you isn’t sweet. It’s filled with hunger... longing... lust...


(Uhh... Richard...)


(I *give up*... do what you want, you little fool...)

I break off the kiss, and press my forehead against yours.

“I think I’m ready... to have you at my mercy.”

I bat my eyelashes at you again.

“is that what you want, Sebastian?” I ask breathlessly.



I think my gasp probably tells you all you need to know...

"Yes..." I whisper, looking into your eyes. You're no longer batting your eyelashes coquettishly - something's happening between us, something that's like the current from earlier. Your eyes grow larger, darker... Your mouth is open, your breath so shallow I can't even feel it.

Slowly, you lean to the right, reach out your hand, and pick up a black leather belt. Looking me in the eyes, not speaking, you pick up my right hand and lift it, press it above my head. Then you do the same with my left, still not looking away.

I don't think you can look away. I don't think I can, either. You're the cobra and I'm your prey. Mesmerizer and mesmeree. If either of us move our eyes, the spell will be lost, and neither of us want that.

Your hands loop the belt around my wrists and a rod of the bed frame, pull it tight. You're good at this - have done it before. I could get loose if I really wanted to, but I'm not going to just slip out.

At your mercy, my prince...



God... the moment the belt is in my hand.. our eyes just lock.

There's no denying our connection. I've never stared into someone's eyes like this - just for short periods of time with prey.

When - did I stop - thinking of you - as prey?


Oh *no*. You have *always* been prey...

What the hell else would you be?

Slowly I move your hands above your head, gazing at you.

Yes, I've been feeling electrified by you... yes, I've been falling for you... yes, I've been imagining being with you...

My mind blanks out.

Just - keep - going - Richard...

Not looking away, I restrain your wrists to the bed frame, tighten the belt with a purposeful yank.

"This is where you wanted to be, Sebastian... at my mercy... at my pleasure... and all mine..." I murmur. "Am I right?"

I straddle your waist, and splay my hands on your chest.

"I know, Sebastian... we shouldn't say these things. But what if we whisper? Then maybe it doesn't count..." I lean forward, whispering in your ear. "Maybe we could say things like... I want you to be all mine... and as far as I'm concerned... tonight, *you are mine*..." I lick your earlobe, and begin to chew on your neck. "Mine to do with as I please... my beautiful Sebastian..." My hand holds your head in place, and my fingers tighten in your hair.



Oh my... where did you come from? Who are you, sweet boy with the blackest eyes?

I’m enraptured listening to your words - so hot... where did you get this courage, this confidence, all of a sudden? My wrists are tied and suddenly you’re a changed man... daring, seductive, dominant, bold...

And I am a changed man as well - from the tough experienced guy who was going to show you the ropes, I’m the wide-eyed shallow-breathing prey, roped up for your pleasure...

A man who whispers, “Yours... here for your pleasure...”, and closes his eyes as your fingers tighten in his hair; eagerly awaiting whatever comes next...



I hear your words and I smile. I press my tongue against your neck, drag it along the tender flesh under your jaw. You taste so good, and I haven't even tried your blood yet. But I can smell it just beneath your skin. Mmmm... soon....

For now, I won't tempt myself any further. I dig my fingers into your wrists, and drag along your arms, allowing my nails to scrape your skin. The sound is beautiful, and the purring sound you make even more so...

Oh... did we find something we like?

"Beautiful Sebastian..." I coo, and continue to drag my fingers along your chest... and down to your abdomen... and down your thighs.

You seem to be enjoying it and I go a bit harder at the end, leaving light red scrapes and tiny beads of blood.

I eye them. Can I trust myself to -

Oh, *who* am I kidding?

I swoop down to lick up the crimson droplets, digging my fingers into your thighs. My eyelids flutter shut.

"You taste good, Sebastian..." I whisper. Placing hands on either side of your head, I gaze down at you and smile.

"I like you being here for my pleasure..." I lean down and kiss you hungrily.



My arms come alive with sensation as your nails drag down them, slowly, almost painfully... but will it hurt? Will your newfound boldness extend to bringing your willing captive pain?

Nails scraping down my chest... so good... my cock perking up... you’re moving down, further down, and then, finally, breaking skin - acute sharp sensation, a gasp - mine - and then you're down onto my legs, sucking up the blood... oh god...

Your face above mine, again, looking at me. The light does something to your eyes - they seem different -

Then you kiss me, and I taste my own blood, and moan softly into your mouth.

God - Richard...



That's not Richard.

It's not?

No... I don't know what happened, but I'm right. Something's changed, something's come over you, and you couldn't be further away from the sweet shy gay boy that I fell for earlier. My sweet Richard... clumsy, awkward, insecure... who somehow is an amazing dancer, lover... and now is revealed to be a man who can effortlessly dominate a man like me...

You pull back, look me in the eyes. Those endless, dark eyes... Hypnotizing, enchanting, captivating... clearly used to being in control...

You are you. Not Richard. My sweet, shy, clumsy Richard was a ruse...

He may be one side of you, but there's so much more to you... you are a magnificent predator, outclassing even me. And by masquerading as my prey, you've made me into yours... Oh, how clever...

And here I am, at your mercy, in your bed, tied to a metal rod, already bleeding...

... and with my cock rock-hard.

I have no idea in whose lair I have landed, but I am loving this... I am incredibly fascinated and intrigued by you, whoever you are... not-Richard...

"I love being at your pleasure..." ... not-Richard -

"... Sir."



When I break off the kiss, there’s something in your eyes... realization dawning.... *recognition*. One predator sees another.

And your reaction is not to be upset or afraid or anything that smacks of *weakness* and human frailty... no... when you realize that you’ve been prey all along... and are now bleeding and tied up courtesy of a mysterious, cunning stranger... *you* my dear instead are fascinated... *admiring*... and ohhhh, just euphoric to find yourself in my clutches.

My, my... what treasure did we stumble upon?

Then you call me Sir.

My eyes widen.

Ohhh... *darling*...

I move my hand slowly and sinuously down your cheek and neck, tilting my head as I observe you.

“What gave me away, my sweet Sebastian?” I ask in my innocent voice, then flash a wicked smile at you. “No one ever figures it out. *No one*... what an unexpected delight you are!”

I lick your neck again, and suck on your flesh longingly, my tongue pressing hard against you.

“Just what are we going to do with you, my intriguing, beautiful soldier?” I murmur against your throat.



"You're a very convincing Richard..." I smile. "You were getting too into me, maybe... showing your real desires - and finding they aligned very much with mine. And then - your eyes... one predator recognizes another - Sir..."

Your teeth bite my throat gently, and I moan.

"What I don't get, however... why do you do it? Surely you can seduce anyone without playing a role... I'd have come home just as willingly with... whoever you are... as with Richard, adorable though he is. What do you get out of it?"



Fascinating to be questioned like this...

I shift positions, so my leg is curled around you, and I’m half-resting on your chest, half on the mattress.

“What do I get out of it?” I muse, resting my cheek on my hand. “I should think that would be obvious... one does grow bored of doing the same thing time after time...“ I sigh.

“And I’m a man of *parts*, darling. Now if you want to know why I chose Richard for *you*...” I regard you, considering. “Just a feeling. You have such an energy of protection, fierce protection... like it’s what you live for. I thought I’d give you someone to feel protective about...” I lightly touch your face with my hand, almost wistfully. “What Sebastian and Richard had was... very sweet. I didn’t expect that...”

We’re staring into each other’s eyes again... my hand slowly caresses your cheek.



Protection? I have an energy of protection? With Richard, yes - but that was after I met him, because he was so adorable and seemed to need it. But - it's a general thing you saw in me? Huh... I can't say I've ever felt protective about anyone or anything... Not since I was a kid, anyway.

"It was very sweet. And I enjoyed it. But it was... it was not just an act."

I can say this with conviction.

"The awkward clumsy boy was an act, but the sweet boy looking at me wistfully saying 'If it could be anyone, it would be you...' that was real. That was you, whoever you are, or the Richard side of you, or whatever."



If I still breathed, I would be holding back a gasp.

If my heart still beat, it would be pounding.

I feel like Richard is grinning at me.... whispering, “You know he’s right, Jimmy...”

Shut the fuck up, you silly twat. Your part in this is done...

Now I feel him pouting... of course. Pout all you want, my dumpling. It won’t change what fate has decreed for your little pet...

“Sweet boy...” I said, as if I was tasting the words. “Sweet. Boy. *Huh*... There’s a thought. Darling, I have *never* been accused of being sweet... even when I-“ I stop myself from saying what I was about to divulge. You’ll discover the truth soon enough... when my teeth are in your throat.

“Anyway... we’re here, naked, and horny, and you’re so deliciously tied up... Shall we continue our evening of - Not an act?” I demand.

“Not an act?? What do you care, Mr ‘You can touch me for tonight and then I’ll be gone, sweet Richard’??”

Why ... do I sound so *stung*?

And why does it feel like Richard is laughing at me??




Someone is miffed. And it seems to be of a dual nature - first that I dare assume that the sweet boy was not an act - which it wasn’t, and you know it, and you’re not insisting it was , just moving along-

and second, you are pissed off at my having said that I’d be gone after tonight - but so had you - and you even said you were dangerous...

What danger lies within you then, handsome stranger? And how does it make you need to leave me after one night, but still make you miffed that I have to leave after one night?

You get curiouser and curiouser...

However, I best stop the third degree, if I don’t want to risk pissing you off or upsetting you. I’ll find out your secrets... or not. But I’m tied down naked in a bed with a very sexy man, who was about to show me a very good time, before I started digging.

If he wants to be a mysterious stranger, let him be a mysterious stranger...

but a mysterious stranger who fucks me.

“I’m sorry, Sir, it’s none of my business...” I say, trying to sound contrite. “Let us pick up where we were... if you so desire.”

I lick my lips.



I narrow my eyes at you for a moment, searching for further slights in your words and finding none. But the slights already gathered are still vexing me... who do you think you are to make *declarations* about me! Will *your face be red* when I vamp out!

But I suppose I can do something with this vexation that will be *very* pleasurable...

"If I so desire..." I purr. "That's more like it... I can think of plenty of things that I desire. Where to begin..."

I have no implements for whipping, flogging, etc. It's been so long since I've thought of this proclivity of mine. I glance around the room and my eyes settle on one of the lovely hard leather belts on the bed.

I grab hold of the belt looped around your wrists and stare at you.

“I’m going to loosen this so you can turn over. Don’t try to get away or I shall be very cross with you, Sebastian...”

I give you a wicked smile as I undo your restraints.

“What are you waiting for?” I make an impatient gesture implying you should turn around, and you do so with a grin.

I reattach your wrists to the bed, and stare at your body in hunger.

“Mmm...*beautiful* view... makes me want to -“ I bring the belt down against your arse, making a gorgeous smacking sound. You jump with surprise, but was that a moan I heard?

“Yesss, my darling... it *is* good, isn't it...”

I bring the belt down harder on the other cheek, and shiver at the sound. *God*, I've missed this...



You look so fucking hot like this... looking me over like a tasty platter laid out for you to enjoy... like what you see, handsome stranger not-Richard? Am I ever going to even learn your name?

I love this sensation of being an object of lust... Being observed to see what delights I can bring...

And then you order me to turn over and I grin, almost shivering with excitement. You wouldn't... by any chance...


A line of fire across my arse.

Oh - god... oh god you are... oh fuck... I moan involuntarily.


Slightly harder - you do not hold back, there's nothing tentative or hesitant about this; these are the lashes of a man who knows what he wants to give and who knows that I can take it - want to take it...

Oh fuck...


Fuck, handsome stranger, you're good - who the fuck are you, where did you come from, how did you know...

lash across my back and I groan at the acute pain shooting straight through to my cock, rubbing against the bed.

I open my eyes to see the mattress, the rods of the bed frame, but with my mind's eye, I see a black abyss, and I'm hurtling headlong into it....

smack oh god delicious pain...

smack I moan with desire and ecstasy...

Damn, Sebastian, you are so fucked... here you were falling for a beautiful sweet prince, and then it turns out the prince has an evil twin who is a mysterious dangerous stranger... and you're falling doubly hard.

How am I ever going to walk away from this?!



As I thrash your back with the whip, your body moves in response, and you groan in ecstasy.

*God*... Richard and Sebastian had such a *sweet* connection, they practically had the makings of a faerie tale... one with a sweet prince and a dashing knight riding off into the sunset on a white steed.

But *Jim and Sebastian*... are another kind of story. The kind that's told at night - over a fire, in a hushed voice. The kind that makes you jump at snapping twigs and moving shadows. A cautionary tale of not trusting strangers, or expecting scorpions to be anything other than what they are... I'm afraid it won't be a happy story for our dashing knight... but the least the evil prince can do is dispatch him with a smile on his face. I decide the thing to do will be to bite you during your orgasm. You'll be so out of your head, you won't know what's happening, and the pain will mix with pleasure and it will be *rapturous*... anything for you, my beautiful knight... erm, soldier.

I rain down lashes of the belt onto your back and arse, and your response is so gorgeous... soon your skin is just covered in lines of reddening welts. I've always loved symmetry... you're my work of art.

God, you're so *beautiful*, Sebastian... in a flash of movement, I loop the belt around your neck. I hold it just tightly enough to pull your head back so I can kiss you feverishly.

"Mine... to do with as I see fit..." I whisper into your ear. "*Say it*, Sebastian..."



lash... lash... lash...

I melt into the delicious pattern - sharp sensation - pain - glow - bliss - repeat -

It's hypnotizing, it's intoxicating, it's fucking ecstasy... Regular enough to slip into a trance, painful enough to keep me alert - perfect, fucking perfect... god, stranger, who are you, how do you know how to seduce a predator and make him your rapturous prey so flawlessly?

The lashes stop. My back and bottom glow exquisitely; you hop onto the bed beside me -

Belt around my neck -

My training kicks in - danger - but my submissive side, whipped up by your lashes, is delighted, eagerly lets itself be kissed, and tells my training to go do one; the belt is not too tight, and if it does become so, then training can join the party, not before. Lie still and be kissed.

Fuck, your words flow through me like red hot lava, setting all my nerve endings on fire...

"Yours, Sir... all yours, here for your pleasure..."

I realize that I mean it.

I'm in so deep... I just need to find out if it's in deep bliss or in deep shit...



There’s a moment when I’m not sure if you’ll resist the belt around your neck - I can sense lethal power in you, ready and waiting to spring - you seem all loose and relaxed but like you’d be more than happy to tear out someone’s throat in an instant. Like a predatory cat.

But then you quickly relax back into bliss, and kiss me back just as hungrily.

Mmm... this is even hotter than before. Richard can swoon and stutter and bat his eyelashes all he likes, the little tart. Jim is back and here to stay... and is delighted to discover that his soldier is so *into* this...

“God, Sebastian... I can’t hold back a fucking minute longer. I want you... and I *will have* you...” I murmur into your ear, and watch you shiver.

The best thing to do would be to take you from behind... so I can have easy access to your throat with no resistance.

(And so you don’t have to look at his face when you kill him? my residual Richard demands.)

SHUT IT, Richard... Daddy’s back in the driver’s seat and needs complete SILENCE from you now...

I drag my hand along your back and luscious bottom... and before I know it, I’ve pulled the belts from your throat and wrists.

“Turn over,” I order in a voice like torn satin.

You do, and I’m transfixed by your eyes... god, the depth of your ecstasy and your surrender...

I force myself to restrain you again with the belt.

“Get your knees up and open your legs - wider,” I say in a feral growl.

I snatch up the lube and rub it onto myself and you, and prod your entrance with the head of my cock. I look at you and hesitate... I press into you and you gasp. I stop, feel you adjust and relax internally... and push in deeper still.

“You didn’t expect any of this when you took me home... did you, my beautiful soldier...” I whisper.

Stop. Being. Sweet. To. The. Prey. I snarl at myself.

And I lean down and kiss you deeply.



Yes - oh god yes, fuck me, fuck me, handsome stranger with the piercing eyes - I want you to take all possible pleasure from me, I'm yours, fuck, please...

I turn over as ordered, look at you with what must be wide and hungry eyes - fuck, I'm so fucking turned on -

You take your time, tie me down again, which only ignites me further - here I lie, hands tied over my head, at your mercy, awaiting your pleasure...

And then you. enter. me.

And it is breathtaking. I feel so surrendered, I so want you inside me - I can't believe I was inside you earlier, when I still believed you were your good twin - god, Richard and not-Richard, two glorious sides of the same coin, and what a coin it is, I did win the jackpot tonight...


Only tonight...

Don't think about it, you idiot. Enjoy the best fucking sex you've had in... ever.

I moan as you push further into me - oh fuck so good... The pressure, your eyes looking into mine, my wrists restrained, my thighs pushed apart by your body...

"No... this was the last thing I expected... but it is - excessively welcome -" I pant.

And then you kiss me, your tongue claiming my mouth like your cock is claiming my arse, and I'm lost...

Please, take me, take all of me, I'm yours...



Utter submission... that is what I feel in you...

I’m plunging into you so deeply.


Mentally, emotionally... (???)

You want this - with me.

Of course, neither of us can have *this*...

All I can do is give you the fuck of a lifetime...

And send you on your way.

Something twinges inside me, deep in my gut... what is *that*?

I shift my weight slightly, but it doesn’t stop.

So I start to move faster...

I hear you moan loudly, and I return to my body and yours with a shock. Where was I just now? What was I... feeling?

I give myself a shake, and focus on the experience of being inside you.... buried deep in your sweet arse.

I focus on my hands grasping your hips, drawing your pelvis against mine, drawing me more deeply into you.

I focus on your eyes, fixed on mine...

blue like the sky after a storm... I almost feel like I’m standing in daylight when I look at you.


so beautiful...

“You want to be all mine, do you?” I whisper urgently. “Truly mine, Sebastian?”

Because I can give you that... when you pass out of this world, you’ll remain mine for all eternity...

I feel wetness in my eyes and I blink it back furiously.



Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck this is good... You fill me up so perfectly, my back and arse are glowing from the whipping, my cock is at bursting point, my entire body is on fire...

Your eyes stare into mine and it's like staring into infinity, those eyes have seen beyond the edges of the universe and are carrying a burden that is too heavy... and just as I'm thinking that, you whisper your words of possession, but your eyes spill over...

What is going on, my prince?

You were right, I do have a protective vibe... I feel this immense urge to hold you, keep you safe from whatever might be threatening you, comfort you in your sorrows, promise you that I will make it right...


"I am yours, my prince..." I whisper. Wait, what? We were not going to say that out loud, were we, Moran?

"What is wrong?"



“I am yours, my prince..?”


Whatever words were spoken previously...

Whatever your conscious mind told you...

You want me to sink deeper into you, don’t you, Sebastian...

right - into - the - heart - of - you.

More than anything you’ve ever wanted...

You. Want. To. Be. Mine.

And it can’t be... *it can never be*...

I feel a shiver move through me.

“It’s nothing...” I assure you, taking shelter in Richard for a moment to gather myself. I grow still and wipe my eyes. “There’s something in my friend’s apartment that I have an allergic reaction to sometimes... at least I’m not having a sneezing fit during an epic fuck,” I grin at you.

You smile back, but a look of concern remains in your eyes.

“Speaking of epic fuck, darling...“ I whisper. I wind my hands through your hair, and pull your head back. Then I resume my pace, making you groan with pleasure.

*Shit*... that came awfully close to derailing *everything*... Predators do not have sweet, funny moments with their prey!!

They don’t care about their *feelings*...

And they certainly don’t tell white lies to cover up their *tears*...

What the fuck is wrong with you!!

(Couldn’t we...)

Couldn’t. We. What.

(Keep him?)

Your work here is done, Richard... run along now... Daddy’s got this.

I feel a surge of anguish within, and promptly stifle it.

I slowly loosen my grip on the predatory urge that I’ve been so tightly controlling. It comes roaring out like sweet black rapids and I moan. I have to pull back to keep my eyes from glowing... To keep my throat from growling... To keep my nails from sinking into your neck... letting that gorgeous crimson blood spill out for me...

No... we wait for the moment of orgasm as decided...

I growl in frustration, and continue to bury myself in you over and over again. Heat and lust are rising in me, and my moans join yours.

I reach down and begin to stroke your beautiful cock.

The moment advances towards us... I will make it so beautiful for you, my knight... you’ll be mine for always in death, as you could never be in life.

And I realize with a shock this is what I desire, too...

more than anything I’ve ever wanted...

I. Want. You. To. Be. Mine.



You look at me... and there's that wistful look again. What is going on with you, Richard-not-Richard? You want me. You want to possess me. And then when you do - you seem sad. Why?

Because this can't last?

... Can't it?

Oh no you don't, soldier.

Yeah but seriously...


Look. He's not the innocent boy you thought he was. He is a strong predator, like you... couldn't you... I don't know, have an agreement?

An agreement?

Yes, like - you meet once a week, have an epic fuck, don't talk about your work, or where you live, or whatever - just - see him... let him be Richard, and hold him... kiss him... stroke him, adore him, fuck him...

... or let him be not-Richard, and walk in, take off your clothes, and kneel at his feet...

Why can't I have that? Why can't I just have that one thing?

You know why, Sebastian...


You're not having an allergy - you're sad - because of the same thing? Because we can't have this?

My prince... God I'd have given you anything...


... and then my brain is shut off because my head is yanked back - oh yes, epic fuck in progress - what is it with me tonight? Why do I keep getting distracted? That's so not like me...

Thoughts are halted when your rhythm recommences, and I groan deeply with pleasure - who cares about tomorrow, when I have this tonight, this ultimate bliss - your moans, moans from the pleasure I'm giving you, such intense pleasure -

And then you touch my cock and I think I will explode, I'm so fucking turned on...

"Oh - god - oh god oh fuck my prince... oh god yes, please, yours, please..." I rant, as rapture more intense that I could have ever imagined gathers in my body.



Oh god...

your words, your pleading, are undoing me...

“*Fuck*... yes, *mine*, Sebastian... my dark - beautiful - knight -” I rant, head thrown back.

Stay the course, Moriarty...

I thrust harder and deeper,

stroke you harder and faster,

groaning as I do...


I have to time this perfectly, to give you the ecstatic death you deserve.

As I approach the moment... I’m feeling tightness in my chest. A cold hand is squeezing my heart...

Blackness is surrounding me, and I imagine myself falling through an abyss, in flames...


Or maybe it's you I see falling, your fate sealed as it is... a bright, burning star falling through the blackness of the night sky...


“Oh god... Sebastian...”



You’re ranting much like I am, saying I’m yours, fucking me harder, and I’m so close -

And then you moan my name, and the entire universe contracts inside my balls - oh god...

I want to groan your name, but I don’t know it...

“God - oh god - I’m going to - come - Sir... oh god...”



I lean in for a final kiss, taste your tongue, feel your gasps in my mouth.

I stare into your eyes for the final time, looking into forever...

I am flooded with a feeling of light, like someone has thrown open the shutters in a room that has been swamped in darkness for a very long time...

“Come for me... come, my brave knight...” I whisper, steeling myself.

You shiver and twitch, and I feel your cock pulsing once, twice... pause... and then comes the explosion of pleasure...

Oh... god...

*Do it*...


*DO IT*...

(Oh... my Sebastian...)

I watch you as you convulse in a flurry of gasping and moaning.

It’s time...

I rear up, cradle your head... lean in to kiss your neck...

press my tongue against your skin...

Then my teeth...

you’re still shivering against me; your orgasm is going forever...

My fangs descend.

Pierce your flesh.

There’s a gasp, and your body jerks in surprise.

The sucking begins, drawing up your sweet lifeblood...

The pain must be so intense...

I taste your blood, and I moan with pleasure.

I had the tiniest taste when I scratched you... but I was closing myself off from enjoying it too much.

Now nothing is holding me back...

Holy fuck...

So good...

The metallic tang...

The essence of Sebastian...

I drink deeper, swallow, moan... as you continue to shiver against me.

You are unlike anyone I’ve ever tasted...

I taste violence and rage...

Love, like fragile, beating wings...

Devotion, like sweet nectar...

Bitterness, buried deep... like cyanide in a red, juicy apple.

Surrender like a deep dive...

Oh... god...

you’re moaning, shivering, gasping as I take your blood...

Do you surrender to me, even now?

You - are - my - perfect - my - beautiful - *My Sebastian*-

I have to see your eyes one more time, while there is still life and light in them...

I pull back... suddenly terrified I’ll see hatred in your eyes.

“Sebastian?” I whisper, feeling the wetness on my lips and chin....

Your eyes are closed, your skin is pale...

“Darling?” I hear myself say in a small voice, feeling my body begin to shiver.

Chapter Text

I guess this is our last goodbye
And you don't care, so I won't cry



Oh god this is it - pleasure floods through me like an electric shock, paralysing my limbs, pushing itself out of me into your hand while your cock is buried deep inside me, and it’s the best orgasm ever, I am sure of it, I could never have survived this intensity - don’t know if I will survive it now, oh god -

Wave after wave of surging ecstasy - oh fuckkkk, RichardnotRichard, oh god, too much, I don’t know how I will be able to take this...

And then you kiss my neck and bite, drawing blood, and fuckkkk - oh god that feels fucking perfect, the pain so acute, as my orgasm still surges through me, oh god oh god...

So good...

So incredibly good...

Almost too much...




You’re not moving... not speaking... eyes still closed...

(Yeah, eeejit - you’re *killing* him. That’s what happens.)

oh god, so pale...

“Sebastian...” I call out softly.

I pull out of you gingerly, begin to pat your face gently.

Suddenly filled with fury, I slap you.

“Sebastian!” I shout. “Do you have fucking permission to leave me? You come back to me right the fuck *now*!”



So good...

but I’m drained now... I can’t, you’re still fucking me, I can’t just fall asleep... come on Seb...

So... dark... soft bed... heavy body...

So good...



I let out a strangled scream and tear at the bedsheet. I hold the strip of cloth against your neck to staunch the bleeding. Fuck, what now... *fuck*...

I don’t generally need to worry about bringing them back from the edge...

“So sorry.. so sorry...” I whimper as I hold the cloth to your neck and watch it bloom red.

You were a genius in life... and you want to sit around whinging like a child, instead of being an undead creature of darkness? HANDLE IT, and stop wasting time. He needs WHAT, darling?

Fluids? Iron? Nutrients?


I lift you effortlessly, carry you to the living room sofa. I need to keep an eye on you if I’m getting food for you… I lie you down, wedge a cushion against your neck to keep the sheet in place, more cushions under your feet to keep your legs elevated. Then I rush to the kitchen. I get a water bottle, take it to the sofa and stare at you in anguish, before leaving it next to you.

Then I return to the kitchen and start pawing through the cans in the pantry. Chicken soup? Chilli Con Carne? Thank Christ this AirBnB host was not a vegetarian... There are also frozen meals with meat... a nice, hearty shepherd’s pie? I throw it in the microwave, and start heating chicken soup for you to start with.

“Sebastian?” I call out to you. “This has gone on long enough! Stop being obstinate and wake up, darling!”



I feel very tired, but there's something... important... I need to wake up...

Everything hurts... My breathing is shallow - I can't get enough air -

What's happened? I am so tired...

... no, I have to get up... there's something... someone...

I can't move... not enough air...





Soldier! Get it together!

Get what together??

You're in danger!! Severe blood loss! Don't lose consciousness or you may slip into a coma! Replenish fluids! Get a medic!

I will... in a moment... So tired...

NO! Open your eyes! OPEN YOUR EYES, soldier!


Wake up, darling!

What...? Who is darling?

I open my eyes to see a ceiling, a standing light, a cushion - I'm on a sofa?



I’m manically stirring soup and cursing like a sailor, which is the most bizarre thing I have *ever* done in my vampire unlife, when I hear another type of stirring from the living room. There’s a creak of springs and a sigh, and then the *splosh* of a spoon dropping in hot soup. I run to the sofa before I’ve realized what I’m doing, and I have to stop from flinging myself at you. I kneel on the floor, and take your face in my hands.

“Sebastian,” I say firmly. “*Wake the fuck up*. *Darling*. You need fluids and you need protein. And I don’t fancy you choking to death when I pour hot soup down your fucking throat.” I stare at you, willing you with everything I have to open your eyes.

“Open those beautiful bloody eyes, Sebastian...” I growl, and press my lips to your forehead.



Not interested... so tired...

Why are you holding my head? Why are you calling me darling? Who are you, anyway?

I open my eyes to see a panicking guy - Richard? -

"There you are! Wake up, Sebastian!!"

What... who are you? There was - are you Richard?


So tired...


"No! Sebastian! Look at me!"


Why? I mean, you're pretty, but... eyes are heavy...

There's something...

"Sebastian! You need fluids - you need to drink - stay awake, Sebastian, please..."

Fluids - yes - wait - blood loss? Was there something...

I move - pain - there's a pressure on my neck...

Wait -

Wait -

"You bit me-"

I try to turn to face you, but my neck hurts... why does it hurt so much?

"You bit me - I lost blood? What - what the fuck happened?"



Shit… you’re finally awake, but you’re too focused on figuring out what happened to drink from the water bottle I’m trying to shove at you.

I groan in frustration. “Sebastian! I will answer all your bloody questions, I just need to you to shut the fuck up for a moment long enough to *drink this*…”

You look at me, and suspicion, confusion, and anger flit through your eyes before resignation settles. “All right…” you say in a hoarse voice, vibrating with tension.

I push the bottle at your mouth, and you grab it from me weakly and start to drink.

I watch you closely and jump forward when you choke on it. “Slowly,” I soothe, rubbing your back. “You keep drinking that - *slowly* - and I’ll bring you some soup…”

I hear the sound of liquid spilling, and my head pops up. “Fuck! No!” I move like quicksilver to the kitchen to grab the pot of soup that’s started boiling over on the stove. I stand holding a dripping pot, staring at the stovetop covered in bubbling soup. The microwave begins to beep loudly.

I close my eyes. “Jaisus… I haven’t done this for a *really long* fecking time…” I mutter. I look around, unsure of what to do first.

“Right. Soup requires bowl…” I put the pot down on an element, and pull a cheery red ceramic bowl from a shelf. I pour the soup carefully into it. I start to walk back into the living room, then stop.

“Spoon. Where are you, spoon…” I mumble, pulling open drawers and finally finding cutlery. Triumphantly I throw a spoon into the bowl with a wet *plunk*. The microwave beeps again shrilly.

I curse through gritted teeth, put the bowl down, and pull out the sizzling shepherd’s pie. “You just cool over here, fucker…” I say, seething as I throw it on the counter. I pick up the bowl of soup and finally carry it over to you where you’re staring at me in disbelief.

“Your soup,” I say proudly. “I heated it myself! And you will eat every bite…”

I sit on the sofa next to you, ladle up a spoonful of soup and hold it out to you expectantly. You continue to stare at me.

“What are you waiting for?” I demand. “Eat!”



Yes - drink - replenish fluids, most important. Salt and iron - soup will have salt. Maybe you have iron supplements.

How did you rush to the kitchen so quickly?

I'm confused... must be hallucinating from blood loss.

I'm too weak to hold the fucking bottle - but my neck - what happened to my neck -

With superhuman effort, I move my hand to my neck. A cloth, with some blood on it - not drenched, so the wound can't be that big. But I'm suffering from hypovolemic shock. So how did I lose so much blood so quickly? The last thing I remember is coming so spectacularly, you biting my neck, drawing blood - but you don't lose that much blood through a neck bite, for fuck's sake...

Did something else happen to make me pass out? I thought I was coming down with something... or potentially drugged... But the symptoms all point to blood loss. And you put me down with my legs up - you knew I had lost blood. So, you saw me lose the blood - made me lose the blood? But how?

I do a check of the rest of my body - no more wounds that I can feel.

"What the fuck happened, not-Richard?"



I make a frustrated sound.

“You are being *very* exasperating, Sebastian... you must know how important it is to take in fluids and nutrients after blood loss! I’ll answer a question for each spoonful of soup you eat. All right? I bit you. Now, *you eat*....”

I hold the spoonful of soup towards you.



Well, you're not trying to kill me - quite the opposite - so I assume the soup is safe. I suck the hot liquid in carefully, swallow it. It doesn't taste salty - a clear sign that I lack minerals; again indicating blood loss. I look at you angrily.

"What. The fuck. Happened."



I look back at you, annoyed. “Do you really want to repeat the same question for your turn? I bit you. Eat.” I push another spoonful of soup at you.



I ignore the spoon.

“I know you fucking bit me. How did I lose so much blood that I passed out?!”



“I drank it. But in my defence, I didn’t take as much as I had planned... Now. Stop being so obstinate. Take this.” I push the spoon at you yet again.



“You - drank it?! Enough to make me hypovolemic?? What the fuck are you, a vampire?!”



“That’s *three* questions,” I say mildly. “Hardly fair, but the answer is one and the same, so I’ll give it to you.” I smile at you slowly. “*Yes*, darling...”



"Fuck off," I retort.

You look serious though.


Oh fucking typical.

Meet the most bloody amazing shag in London and he's a nutter.

A nutter who drained me of an awfully large amount of blood...

"You didn't actually drink all of that, did you?"

Can people suck so much blood from others? Wait, do you do this regularly!? Why haven't you been locked up?



“Fuck, *yes*... and it was exquisite. You are remarkably... tasty....” I say, eying your neck. Mmm...

*No*. Bad repentant vampire... no snatching the beautiful soldier back from the jaws of death just to drain him dry!

I sigh. “No reason you’d believe me. If you stop nattering long enough to eat something, I’ll demonstrate. Not on you, of course...” I grin.



Yes, I must eat... and keep a close eye on this madman.

Bloody hell. You could have killed me.

How, though? How did you drain a trained elite killer quickly enough to make him pass out? I should have realized what was happening and punched your lights out - but instead I just went from climax to knockout. Did you drug me after all?

I take some more of the soup you are hovering in front of me insistently, look at you challengingly - right then, Mr Vampire, show me your stuff. And don’t touch me, or blood loss or not, you’re fucked.



You finally start to eat the soup, and for a moment I think I’m going to fall over in relief. Jesus... how the fuck did you affect me so much?? By the suspicious look on your face, I suspect you’re feeling the same way... (Which is not exactly *grateful* for me saving your life, Sebastian...!)

We both eye each other as you methodically spoon soup into your mouth. You look at me expectantly and glaring, and I roll my eyes.

“Dinner and a show, is it... fine. Don’t eat while I demonstrate - if I held myself back from the most delectable blood I’ve ever had, only to lose you to soup... I shall be *very cross*.”

I give you a snarky smile and open my mouth. My fangs descend and I raise an eyebrow. “Well?”



My arm is unsteady as I eat the soup - like I've done weights that are too heavy. I look at you expectantly - so what are we going to get?

You smile.

Your teeth.

Your teeth grow.

What. The. Fuck.

It must be a trick, right? Some kind of - lever mechanism?

In his MOUTH!?

You never know with nutters these days. It has to be.

I spill soup on myself - shit -

You move like lightning, take the bowl from me, put it on the table, zoom to the kitchen like bloody Quicksilver and return with a cloth -

"Here - let me..."

You dab my chest as I look at you with my mouth open.

That can't - you didn't just -


I close my eyes, shake my head. You did drug me, after all. I'm hallucinating.

I open my eyes, see you looking concerned. I reach out my hand, touch your fangs - they feel real. Do hallucinations extend to touch? I think they do, don't they?

Wait - maybe I'm dreaming. I pinch my arm - ouch. OK. I'm awake. Hallucinations it is then.

"Did you drug me?"



Awww... my soldier is freaked out. Makes sense.

You reach out to touch my fangs and I let you. I don’t know if you’re aware of just how unlikely a scenario this is...

There’s something about you touching them. I soften as I feel the light pressure of your fingers. I look at you pinching yourself, and I want to wrap you up in a blanket.

Oh! Blanket! You must be cold from blood loss...

I look around and see a red faux fur throw on an armchair. I go pick it up and try to wrap you up, but you yank it from my hand and throw it over your shoulders haphazardly. I sigh. “No drugs. Just a vampire drinking from his prey and sweetly changing his mind before it was too late...” I smile at you archly. “You’re welcome, by the way...”



"OK. Fine. You're a fucking vampire. There's only one problem. Vampires don't exist."

That's not going to convince a nutter though. And - if I got drugged, why do my hallucinations nicely overlap with your delusions?

I look around the room. No other things look odd. No psychedelic paintings dancing. No curtains coming to life. Just a guy with long fangs who moves faster than the Flash.

And who drained me of blood. A lot of blood.

Fucking hell...

You're joking me, right? Hottest guy in town and he's a fucking fantasy creature.

"Why did you change your mind?"

That sounds like a stupid question, but I don't know what else to ask. I should have watched Interview with a Vampire.



You don’t believe me, do you. I sigh again. “We had.... a connection. I’m not sure how much I can impart to you that that *does not happen*. To me, at least... even when I was alive.”

Starting to feel self-conscious under your scrutiny, I wander to the kitchen to get you another water and the shepherd’s pie. I drop it on the table in front of you.

“Here. You should eat at least a little. You need protein, and this will be grounding for you. I’m sure that’s partly why you think you’ve been drugged - you must feel terribly disoriented and dizzy...”

I sit on the table and stare back at you intently. “Didn’t you think we had a connection, Sebastian?” I challenge. “Or do you call every man you bring home *your prince*?”

Wait... *do you*?? I narrow my eyes and my jaw hardens. There better not have been any pretenders to my throne...



"Well – I - I don't know!" I burst out. "First I meet this really cute shy guy called Richard, who is utterly adorable and takes me home. But when I'm there, it turns out that Richard was - a ruse, to lure me into the lair of some other guy, who was incredibly hot, and whose name I still haven't learnt by the way, and then this other guy fucks me, which is good; but then it turns out that the other guy also was a ruse and it was all a ploy to lure me into the claws of a fucking vampire, who then starts to drink me dry and then changes his fucking mind because we had a fucking connection!"

I'm properly shouting now, but fuck, you've earned it...

"So which one of you had a fucking connection with me?! Or is that going to be mystery guy number four, Satan himself?!"



My mouth drops open as you go on a proper rant. And OK, it makes sense that you would have these feelings but you didn’t answer my question about calling other men princes, and - and -

“Well, what was I supposed to do!” I snap. “Lure you into my lair by telling you I’m a vampire?! I’m sure you’re *completely* honest with everyone you bring home! You have ‘terrible dark secret’ written all over you!! What didn’t *you* share with Richard?” I demand. “Who really did like you, if that counts for anything! And obviously *I* had the connection with you, if *I’m* the one who let you live!!” I’m shouting by the end, too. “I fucking like you, Sebastian! I couldn’t bring myself to kill you, even though that’s what I do - *all* I do. You want me to prove it? I’ll drain someone right now...” I glower at you, but I can hear the wistful note in my voice, and it’s making me wince. Some creature of the night I am... *what did you do to me*??



"Who are you then?! And who is Richard - some alter ego? And NO, I don't want you to go and fucking drain someone right now!!"



I rake my hands through my hair. “Why the hell not? At least you’d know I was telling the truth, and I’m not just some mad creature you went home with... not ‘just’ a mad creature anyway,” I mutter. “Yes, Richard is an alter ego. I have a few - keeps things interesting... my name is Jim. Are you sure you don’t want me to kill someone? I don’t mind...”



"No, thank you! You do have a way with people, don't you?

I - I think I believe you. OK, it's mental, and vampires don't exist, but - you obviously are something like one, so apparently they do."

I wrap the blanket tighter around me. I'm cold -




That was what was wrong! What I couldn't put my finger on - you were cold! But - when I tried to think about it - I was steered off it.

"Do you have some kind of - hypnotic effect? That prevents people from realizing that you - are - cold?"



“I *do* have a way with people,” I say testily. “I was ridiculously charming before I ever became a vampire...” I flash you a sly grin. “Being a vampire enhances that. But when it comes to hunting, I don’t use mind control, or cast thralls or anything like that, because that’s *fucking* boring. It’s so *ordinary*.” I roll my eyes. “Do I have a hypnotic effect? I don’t *use* it, but I suppose people may still feel it. I never thought about why people don’t notice... (and I’m not *cold*, it’s closer to *room temperature*.) I’m too busy charming them with natural charisma...” I give you a boyish smile.

“I don’t need to be a vampire for people to want me. Wouldn’t you agree?”



"Well - yes - you are quite eh - hot. And cold. I mean, room temperature is cold, for a human. I did notice it, but - it was like there was a block in my brain, that didn't allow me to realize that I noticed it - I would feel it, and when I tried to think about what I felt, I got distracted. So - that must be, like, a subconscious effect -"

What the fuck is happening? I'm discussing mind control with a fucking vampire!? Who fucked me and drained me and then brought me back from the dead because - he felt a connection!?

Fucking hell...

"Sorry - I guess I shouldn't have a drink, what with someone draining all my blood, but - would you mind getting my fags? I really need one right now..."

I really need a drink, but even I know that's madness. I sip some more water, hand you the empty bottle. "Please fill this, add some salt, and some sugar. And do you have any iron supplements?"



I continue to smile at you. You’re cute when you’re flustered...

“Of course, darling. I’m here for you, whatever you need. I don’t have any iron supplements, what with not bringing victims back from death, as a rule. Please eat some meat, won’t you? It will help, until I can get you the supplements tomorrow. But I’m happy to get your fags and that disgusting-sounding concoction... my knight.” I wink at you and go to get you your requests.



I'm glad to have a second to myself, short as it is.

What. the fuck. is happening. I picked up some sweet guy, followed him to his apartment. Sweet guy turned out to be a predator - so far, so good. Predator turned out to be a vampire, which is where my brain short-circuits.

It's insane -

But the things I've seen - the way my body is drained -

OK, so let's assume he is a vampire. Who - was going to kill me, but changed his mind because he felt a connection -

A connection!?

What am I supposed to make of that? A vampire was going to fuck me then kill me, but he changed his mind at the last moment because he felt a connection.

I have no frame of reference for this. What does it mean, if a vampire feels a connection with a human?

You're incredibly fast - I'm no longer sure I'd beat you in a fight - but you don't want to kill me... then what? What do you want with your connection, not-Richard - Jim?

You come back into the room, hand me the bottle and my cigarettes. I drain the former, hand it back to you. You're back with a full bottle before I've lit my cigarette, place it on the table. I hold out the package of cigarettes to you - my upbringing was heavy on the etiquette, but it never told me how to behave with an undead creature who's just refrained from taking your life, so I'm free-forming here. But I remember how you looked earlier with your cigarette... and somehow it seems to me that sharing a cigarette will give me a break from this - madness I found myself in.



Awww... you don’t trust me and don’t know what to think of me... and fair enough, I did trick you and nearly drain you dry. But you’re still offering me a cigarette?


(That is *so sweet*...)

Yes, Richard... very sweet.

(I want him. Give him to me.)

He’s a little angry at us, darling...



You flick on a lighter - I hold out my cigarette over the flame, and inhale deeply.

Looking at you smoking, I think back to our shared moment just a little while ago.

I feel a pang of... something. Sadness... loss... remorse?

Nonsense. But the pangs don’t stop....

As though I miss what we shared...

As though I feel a chasm between us and I’m afraid it can never be crossed...

As though I want to fling myself over that chasm, and find my way to you again...

I know I can make the leap.

I can do the impossible. I can always, always do the impossible.

Can’t I?

I look at you, and the wistfulness from before floods through me again.

“For what it’s worth... I wish we could go back. To when things were simpler. Richard and Sebastian... they had something special, didn’t they?” I give you a sad smile, and blow smoke at the ceiling.



“They did... I told you so. And not-Richard too, I think... Jim. That was... fucking special too.

I think I could have fallen in love with either of them... or both.”

Hello? Moran? What are we doing?

We are saving my life, is what we’re doing. I’m in the company of a dangerous killer who spared my life because he felt a connection. If the only thing standing between me and bloody death is a connection, I had better nurse that connection, hadn’t I?

Mmm... OK then. Though I’m not very comfortable opening up to dangerous strangers.

And - do I still feel that fucking ‘connection’?

I look at you, sucking in the smoke, looking so much like Richard of earlier, Richard morphing into Jim, still so sweet but getting bolder...

I should feel - I don’t know. Fear? Definitely. Disgust? Antipathy? Anger?

Sure, I’m a bit pissed off, but mostly - intrigued. Fascinated. Curious. And - fucking hell. Still interested. Very interested.

Hello, Moron. Your sweet Richard and hot not-Richard are a bloodsucking fiend.

Yeah, but he didn’t, did he? He likes me.

He fucking likes you?! What’s that supposed to mean? You might walk out of here alive? Or he’s going to keep you around for a few more fucks before he drains you completely?

Interesting. I’ve never been the weaker party before.

Oh for... you’re enjoying this?!

Well... it’s intriguing..

I... give up. You and your death wish.

“So...” I interrupt my argument with myself, “Now what? I mean - you didn’t kill me. What do you plan to do now? Let me go? Kill me later? Keep me as a pet? I’d like to know. If you do plan on killing me, I’d like to send a text message or two.”

How do you kill vampires? I think it’s silver bullets or stakes, right? Neither of which you’d have lying around in your apartment, I bet. I could try brute force - but I’m not sure on my chances. Probably talking is the better option.



I start at your confession. That's awfully... open. More so than I'd expect from someone's who's still angry. That was a quick turnaround for someone who's played his cards so close to his sexy chest.



You're playing it smart... making me want to keep you alive, buying time to figuring out weaknesses, and figuring out your best plan for staying alive and getting away? Clever soldier...

And then you ask my plans.

Good point, actually... what *am* I going to do with you?

I take a long drag of my cigarette and smile at you. "I hadn't thought that far, darling," I confess, exhaling smoke. "This was a last-second decision, remember? I don't *want* to kill you... I meant what I said. I like you." I tilt my head, consider.

"I *could* keep you as a pet, but... god, so boring. I suppose the only answer is to let you go - but not until you're feeling strong enough to leave. Of course, when I let you go, I'll have to change locations - can't have an ex-lover-turned-vampire-hunter showing up at my door. But there are a couple of effects from being bitten by a vampire you should know . One - I can find you again. Two - " I take another drag of my cigarette. "You may just find yourself... wanting me to..." I blow smoke at you, grinning.



Damn. That's awfully inconvenient.

If it's true... You could tell me anything; it's not like vampire dispatch was ever part of my training. Some special ops we were.

I wonder if there are special special ops who deal with fantasy creatures? Something like real-life Torchwood? No, wait, that was aliens, wasn't it? Anyway... Captain Jack was fucking hot...

Wait. Getting distracted again. Damn.

Yes, I should eat something. That shepherd's pie smells good. And drink more. I hold out the bottle to you again; you raise your eyebrows, but go and fill it.

"I guess - thanks? It's nice of you to let me go. Though you are the bastard who captured me in the first place, so - well. I guess it evens out - except for the fact that I'm awfully weak at the moment - let's say that you owe me."

I tuck into the pie. It's good. I'm starving.

"So - are there many like you? Does anyone know that you exist? Vampires, I mean, not you specifically? What's it like? Do you only drink blood?"



"Captured??" I raise an eyebrow. "You make it sound like I laid a trap for you and snapped you up in a net. Or lured you to fall into a leaf-covered pit. You *wanted* to come with me - you *know* you did. Sometimes, strangers are dangerous, Sebastian... I never said I *wasn't*..." I smile at you mischievously. "Fine. Let's say I *owe you*, if that will keep us on friendly terms..."

I watch you eat your pie with pleasure. You're getting some colour in your cheeks, and you already look less woozy.

"Well, I don't think there are any statistics out on vampirekind.. but yes, there are enough. They generally keep a tight lid on our existence... humans wouldn't take too kindly to sharing their world with us. Oh, also us draining them dry. My, you ask a lot of questions... it's only fair you answer as many as I do... what's your big secret, darling? I promise I won't tell..." I stub out my cigarette and curl up on the sofa.



"I'm not used to strangers being more dangerous than I am," I grin. Not that this seems to disturb me in the slightest. Geez. Pathological absence of fear, wasn't it, army psychologist?

"But yes, you did say. I did wonder how my sweet little Richard could possibly be dangerous - now I know."

I do wonder how you keep the whole draining people dry a secret from people, but then you want to know about me. Huh.

What shall I tell you?

How about the truth?

Don't be silly.

No, seriously. He’s already told you that he’s a vicious killer; it might create rapport. Or something. Who knows, he might be willing to help you out on occasion.

I grin at that. You look at me expectantly.

"I'm ex-army, like I said. In the army, they train you to kill. I turned out to be very good at it, so I didn't see a reason to give up when I rejoined civilian life. There are many people who are willing to pay good money to put someone out of their misery. It's a good enough job, but it doesn't really let you have much of a social life.

There you go. That's it - my big secret."

I lean back in the sofa - I'm still fucking weak - look at you, wondering how you'll respond. You're hardly in a position to judge me, but I still find myself slightly anxious.



You seem a bit more relaxed now... is that for real or part of the act? Hmmm...

I need to figure this out, in case you -

The reference to ‘my sweet little Richard' distracts me from my line of thought.

And makes me want to jump into your lap.

Richard... I am never using you to hunt again. You're impossible to get rid of, you pest!

(Not to hunt... just let me out to play. He called me his Richard!!)


Luckily I'm distracted by your confession.

"You're... an assassin?"

I blink, and stare at you.


"That's... so... unbelievably... hot. And by the way, your sweet little Richard would have liked it too..." I've thrown a flirtatious smile at you before I know it.



You - find it hot?

Oh you horrible person...

I find myself smiling at you, even more when I see your flirty grin - oh god, we are a match made in heaven. Or - probably hell. All four of us.

"Would he now? I'm almost disappointed... he seemed so sweet and innocent... Does he have a thing for bad boys?"

What the - are you flirting with the dangerous predator who nearly killed you!?



I shrug and look at the ceiling innocently.

"Maybe..." I say in a coy voice.

(Oh no - stop this...)

I touch your shoulder, admiring your muscular arm. "Don't be disappointed in me, Sebastian... it's not all bad boys... just one in particular."

My hand moves down your arm, and I'm shocked at how intense it feels after not touching you for only a few moments.

"Is this... all right?" I ask, strangely unsure. "I promise I won't hurt you. But I understand if you don't trust me. It's just - I - like how you feel..."

(Richard... what are you doing....?)



"I probably should be more freaked out by you nearly killing me, I guess," I admit. "But if you would have wanted to kill me, you would have done. And if you suddenly decide you do want to kill me, I think keeping you at arm's length is not going to do much to prevent it, is it?"

You shrug, shake your head.

"Just - will getting closer to me make you hungry? Are you still hungry, since you didn't eat your fill? How often do you need to eat, anyway?"



"I'm fine for tonight; I had my fill... believe it or not, I'm hungrier for conversation than blood. It's a very solitary existence unless you get along with other vampires. And *I don't*. Pretentious twats... I'd rather kill the lot of them than hang out." I roll my eyes. "I'll definitely need to drink from someone tomorrow. Someone else, I mean... Ideally I eat every day. It would take a few days before I started getting desperate... a week would be dangerous, even around someone I liked... but tonight - I'm good."

I smile at you. "So..." Slowly I settle against your legs. "You're looking so much better already. Finish your pie, darling. Can I get you anything else?" My hand curls possessively around your waist.



I like you touching me... I very much like you touching me.

"More water with salt and sugar, thanks," I nod, and finish the bottle. You look at me dubiously, but get me some more, as I finish off the pie.

"So - how do you hide it? If you kill someone every day, and I assume it would be hard to make it look like anything else, if the victim is drained of blood - why aren't the papers full of panic stories about vampire killers?"



"Now, now darling - I've only asked one question, so you're a little ahead of the game. My turn." I drum my fingers on my lips. Where to begin...

"Why can't you spend more than one night with someone? In case they find out about your work? Or... is there also another reason? And - if Richard had asked you out for tomorrow night... would you have turned him down?" A smile plays on my lips.



"I'd argue that you are very much the more interesting one out of the pair of us. Humans are everywhere, you can read about them anywhere. Vampires - not quite, unless you count fiction...

As to me - it's a rule I have. I can't very well have a relationship, with my job, so I only ever sleep with any one person one time. Or - one night," I grin at you. You don't grin back. What?

"As to Richard... I couldn't - I just couldn't." I shake my head sadly. "I really really liked him - like him - but - if you go out with someone two nights, they start having expectations. Maybe they want to go out a third time. And if you like them - it's a slippery slope. And it just gets more and more difficult and painful to say no. If you've gone out three times, why not a fourth? And then they want to see your house, and meet your friends, and know where you work. So - a lot of heartache is prevented when you just leave after the one night.

I have to say though..."

Do you? Do you really have to say?! Have to say you were making excuses in your head on why you could maybe see Richard a second time? Or Jim - or both...

"... I really enjoyed your company a lot..." I try. How do I explain...



My nonexistent heart is plunging into blackness...

*Why* do I feel *crushed* by this??

For *fuck's sake*...

I know what the problem is...



You are not allowed out ever again!!

(Jim! No!!)

I sit up abruptly. "That does sounds like the best approach for your situation. Well luckily, you don't need to worry about it since *Richard doesn't exist*..." I snap, and stand up.

"Feel free to stay here until you're strong enough to go. But I understand if you prefer to leave. And you don't need to worry about me tracking you down. Richard had a one-night rule too, remember?"

I storm across the flat, and slam the bedroom door.

What. The. Fuck. Jim.

I take a chair and throw it at the wall, and it practically goes through the plaster before it disintegrates into pieces.

I am *not* throwing a tantrum!! I've just had *enough* of this.

I'm going out and I'm going to drain someone dry, like I should have done with this *stupid soldier*.

I start to get dressed, seething.



Before I have finished speaking, you're sitting up and looking at me waspishly. And then you speak. And stomp off. And slam the door. And destroy something - a chair, by the sound of things.

Oh my.

Someone doesn't take rejection very well. Quite badly, considering there was no rejection happening.

I recall your bitter remark from earlier, about 'Mr only one night' or something.

Fuck this. Apparently I do have to say.

I get up – head rush. Damn it. I reach for the arm of the chair to steady myself, but I miss - fall to the floor with a crash.



Within an instant of hearing the squeaking of the sofa (which I ignore) and the thud on the floor (can't ignore!), I've sped across the flat and I'm on the floor next to you.

"Sebastian?? Fuck! That's it, I need to get you to a hospital!" I move like quicksilver and return with your clothing. "Here, let me help you get dressed...and I'll call an ambulance... and I should get you some more soup while we wait..." I ramble, panicking, shoving your jeans at you. "Fuckfuck*fuck*!"



"Jim - no, Jim... wait..." You're running around like a lunatic, throwing clothes at me - "Jim - JIM! Wait!"

You look at me, your face full of - concern, anger, impatience -

"Look. Help me onto the sofa, ok?"

You scowl, but effortlessly lift me up. Damn - not only fast, also supernaturally strong.

"I'm ok. I just got a head rush from standing up. I - can't yet, apparently. I'll be fine, just need to gather more strength. I do not need a hospital." I see you look at me. "I don't! I've had enough medical training to know when I'm in danger - I'm not. Honestly. Also - what would I tell them about the cause of my blood loss? And the bite in my neck? Just - don't make me stand up."

I notice you have got dressed - were you going to go out? Leave me here? Throw me out?

"Jim, just - can I tell you something? Please?"

"What?" you ask, suspiciously.

"I... I did want to see Richard again. I just - didn't think I could. I didn't want to - hurt him. But - when we were fucking - you and I, I mean, not Richard - I was thinking about - if we could maybe come to some arrangement. Just - meet up regularly. Not ask questions about - work, and private life.

I... I never think that. I never want to see anyone a second time. Never wanted. Because I really, really wanted to see you again. Want to see you again.

Even if... even if you're a vampire. I mean - what you do isn't worse than what I do. We both kill to live. In a way, what I do is worse - I have a choice not to. I just - don't rate human life all that much. Most of it is wasted on the people who have it.

And - well, you know my secret. And I know yours. I've never told anyone. I assume you haven't either.

I just think -

I think I'd really want to see more of you. What Richard said - can you feel this too - I was too chicken, I copped out - but yes, I felt it. There was something special there. There is. Richard. Jim..."



I'm relieved that you're all right, more or less... Furious that I have to help you instead of storming out and never seeing you again. And there are twingey feelings in my heart and in my guts that this is all because of me.

(I think... that's guilt.)

Go to hell, Richard... vampires do not do GUILT.

These are all *way too many* feelings for me to feel!! Vampires aren't usually big with emotions... so when they *do* feel something, they feel it incredibly deeply. And then it's just a hop, skip and a swoop from losing control... kind of like my hissy fit, which if I stopped to think about it... no. I'm not going to think about it. I *refuse* to think about it.

But then it's not an option because you're asking to share something with me.

And I'm listening, and I'm worried I'm going to lose control again and shove you onto the floor and run away and never see you again...

Instead, I listen to the whole thing and then glare at you. "Jesus, you're a fucking idiot..."

I grab those big, muscular shoulders and pull you into a kiss.

"*See* more of me?" I mutter against your lips. "Did you just ask the vampire who tried to kill you out on a second date?"

My fingers dig into your shoulders, and as your lips begin to move against mine, our kiss deepens.



Right. There’s me trying to be romantic and baring my soul and your reply is that I am an idiot. Well, fuck you too, Jim.

But then you’re all over me... and kissing... and I feel a bit dizzy...

Oh - that’s what you meant?

Relief floods through me. You’re not going to walk away...

“The vampire who could have killed me, easily, and didn’t. The vampire who is doing his very best to get me to not die - even was willing to expose his secret to get me to a hospital.

I think I’m reasonably safe with this vampire... I’ll take my chances. Because, don’t tell him I said this, but that vampire is incredibly hot...”

You pull me closer against you and your kissing gets heated...


What now...

He’s dangerous.


He could kill you in an instant.

Yeah... that’s quite unique...

Oh for - are you turned on by that?! You - utter danger junkie!!!

Well. You have to admit it’s kind of hot. And he’s not going to. I mean, I could kill most people in an instant, but I don’t.

You - you just love being outclassed for once, don’t you?! This is like Stiles and his gun again, isn’t it?!

Heh yeah - that was hot...

I give up! You have the survival instinct of a lemming!

Look at him though - if he would have wanted to kill me, he could have done so any time. He’s clearly fond of me - so let’s see where this might lead...



The kissing is... mmm. SexyDeliciousDreamy.

I’ve kissed humans before, but always as part of the hunt... even with you. Although there’s no denying I felt something with you. Now, as I feel your lips pressing against mine... your tongue sliding against mine... I find myself getting hungry, and not for blood.

When we break apart so you can catch your breath, my hands are still clasping your shoulders, and yours are around my waist.

Neither of us remove our hands, we just stare at each other.

I see a lot going on in your head, which is as it should be - god knows you shouldn’t decide to kiss a vampire, or ask a vampire out on a date, without giving *some* thought to your idiocy.

“Oh the vampire is well aware of how incredibly hot he is... and beautiful and irresistible, which you forgot to mention...” I say, still glaring. “Maybe you’re safe from him... but apparently he gets ornery if a certain stupid soldier hurts his little feelings. So maybe you’re not as safe as I thought! That’s *not* supposed to happen, by the way... *feelings*! Of all the fucking - ridiculous -“ I let out a strangled growl. “I’m *not* happy about it. And I *haven’t* forgiven you.”

Oh great - sulk too while you’re at it... what a majestic creature of the night you are. Daft mopey vampire...

I look at you longingly for a one moment, and then abandon any pretence of control. I crawl over your body quick as a saucy wink, and curl against you like a cat.

“This isn’t forgiveness,” I grumble, and lay my head against your chest.



What the…

"How did I hurt your feelings?!"



"*Hurt* was definitely the wrong word," I say in a lofty voice. "I'm not used to feelings, so I don't always know the right terms!"

Yes, I know I'm lying, Richard... piss off!

"I *meant* to say that I was aggrieved and offended. And *affronted* - that's a good word. As to why, I should think that would be perfectly obvious," I sulk.

You're looking more and more perplexed as I speak. I roll my eyes mightily.

"That you wouldn't throw over your stupid rules for me immediately! What about poor Richard! Hinting that he wanted more, and you just left him hanging, you monster!"

When I see your indignant expression, I'm so overcome by the absurdity of the situation that I burst out laughing.

"Oh - god - " I laugh uproariously through my hands. "Yes, I'm aware this is - utter - fucking - madness...."



"You - idiot -" I manage, starting to chuckle myself.

"Richard said it would only be for one night first, I'll remind you! And then -" The scene replays in my mind with vivid clarity. "...if it could be - anyone... it would be me..."

I look at you. I'm no longer laughing. Neither are you. Your eyes are large, black, searching.

"... and I said it would be you, too."

I pull you closer on my lap. Our faces are nearly touching; your eyes are dark depths in which I could lose myself entirely, so easily...

"If it could be anyone. And we both knew that it couldn't be anyone. Impossible. But - maybe it could... Not anyone. But someone..."


Chapter Text

Under the fog there are shadows moving
Don't be afraid, hold my hand
Into the dark, there are eyelids closing
Buried alive in the shifting sands



I feel a tremble move through me.

Vampires don't tremble, I chide myself.

But hearing our words repeated... out loud, now that all has been revealed...

I feel myself begin to shiver.

Vampires don't shiver, I tell myself weakly.

You pull me close.

Your eyes, so blue... I want to immerse myself in them, like throwing myself into the sea...

My hands float to your face.

"Sounds like madness to me... " I murmur. "It would have to be someone who knew our awful secrets... and only felt *awe*. Where could we possible find such an extraordinary someone, Sebastian?"

Vampires - don't -

This time when I kiss you, there is no artifice, or defensiveness, or veiled warnings.

There are just warm, delicious lips, and arms, and hands.

"Oh," I whisper. "Sebastian..."



You are so soft, so sweet, so lovely...

Seb? You're talking about an apex predator. And you're its prey.

No I'm not... I'm a fellow predator. Mesopredator. I'm too hot to eat. He'll eat others and fuck me...

Yeah, until he loses his shit. He's already shown to be prone to fits of rage. How long until he decides you're a better snack than a shag, after all?

I'll just have to make sure to be an excellent shag, then...

"I don't know about extraordinary..." I whisper against your lips, "but I'm certainly in awe... "

Now that my brain is no longer trying to avoid the realization, I can feel that you are cooler than a human. It doesn't feel awkward, or unpleasant - quite the opposite. You feel - perfect - not cold, not hot, but just right. Your tongue moving against mine, your soft lips, your supple back - it all makes me want to moan with exaltation, you are so exquisite...



I was already a narcissist as a human... being a vampire made me a mesmerizing, supernatural, immortal being. My narcissism is now off the charts...

Sometimes I hunger for admiration from my prey as much as their blood. But *yours*... yours is different, and feeds a very different hunger. One that I didn’t know was inside me.

Hearing ‘I’m certainly in awe...’ in between kisses makes me want to swoon with pleasure.

Vampires don’t swoon, I know...

*And yet*...

I feel myself growing limp under your touch, almost sapped of strength. Does desire do this so lovers will feel compelled to lie down? All I want is to lie down with you... but you’re too weak for what will surely follow.

“I’m enjoying all the awe... a little too much,” I murmur against your ear. “You’re in no condition to take this any further, Sebastian...”

Unless - I did all the work? No. Down, vampire...

“We should - stop -“ I whisper, my head falling back as I feel your lips on my neck.



“And whose fault is that?” I murmur against your neck. “I think you have some making up to do...” Softly, I bite your neck. You moan and shiver at that... so I bite a bit harder.

“I’m sure you’re capable of carrying me to the bedroom and showing me a very good time without me exerting myself... aren’t you?”

You are, and it’s fucking hot... all that strength in such an attractive compact package...

I’m laid on the bed carefully, and you’re on top of me, kissing greedily, stroking my chest, my arms...

“We shouldn’t...” you mumble.

“I’m very much in a condition to take this further, though...” I move your hand to my cock and - oh. What?

“I assure you I’m very aroused...” I stutter.

For fuck’s... he never lets me down! What the fuck?!

I fall down into the pillows with a muffled curse.

Low fucking blood pressure. Body busy sending blood to the brain and the heart and other useless organs.

“This is your fault, you know... hottest guy I’ve ever met, and he drains me of so much blood that I can’t show him...”



I stare down at you, bemused by how frustrated you are. It's perfectly natural under the circumstances...

"Sebastian, maybe we should take this as a clear sign that you need to rest to get your strength back..."

‘Hottest guy I've ever met’... ‘Hottest guy I've ever met’...

Can't show me? How would you show me I'm the *hottest guy you ever met*?

"Sebastian, I'm terribly sorry but I just realized there's something I need to do... I'm going to be busy for the next little while."

You look shocked and then hurt (awww), until I crawl down to face your currently uncooperative but absolutely beautiful cock.

"Hello, gorgeous..." I say in a seductive silky tone. "I'm so sorry we weren't introduced properly before... My name's Jim..."

I stroke my hand down your cock slowly and sinuously, and give the head a damp kiss, my tongue flicking out like a serpent's. Was that a twitch I saw? Mmmm....

"We're going to be on very good terms, honey... By the time I'm through with you, you're going to forget what passed as pleasure in the past..." I purr, and lick the length of you, up and down. Your cock grows firm under my ministrations. God, you're fucking beautiful... and you're *mine*.

My eyes lash up to where you're staring down at me, lips parted, eyes spellbound.

"Forget those *insignificant encounters* with disco dollies. I can give you more pleasure than you *ever* knew was possible," I growl. "When I see something I like, I'm a sadistic fucking sybarite, my darling. Trust me - you do *not* want to miss out on a single moment of what I'm going to do to you."

Your cock is standing at attention now. I smile at it, and stroke it slowly and rhythmically.

"That's more like it, darling..." I murmur at it. "And that's the *last* time I want to see such disobedience, are we clear?"

I lower my mouth and begin to suck your now gloriously hard cock while you gasp and moan.

I pause, and my eyes lock with yours. "Are we?" I say, my voice dangerously soft.



Holy... oh fuck oh mother of god -

- your mouth -

Briefly I get a mental image of your fangs - but you wouldn't...

Oh my god your words are as enchanting as your hands and your - your mouth...

Are you talking my cock into submission?

It appears to work. I probably could not get up now without fainting, but my cock is finally engorged with its rightful share of blood. How could it not, when your mouth, your tongue, your words, your hands weave a spell of titillation...

Oh god -

"Yes, Sir -" I pant. "Absolutely clear..." Despite the fact that you are sucking my cock, there is absolutely no doubt as to who is in charge...

Oh god - my head is pounding; this is probably not wise, but it's so fucking delicious...



I'm enjoying getting acquainted with your cock. It's *mmm*, so like you - *big* and friendly and powerful and *gorgeous*...

Occasionally, I interrupt my sucking in order to lick up and down, up and down, to make you want more, *more*, to make you pant, to make you whimper...

Yes, I'm enjoying your cock *very much*...

And all right, I'm a size queen... guilty! I like my men big and strapping, with appendages to match. And god, do I love to dominate them both...

Only... so often the big ones (men, not cocks) are either dull as a pile of bricks, or stupidly macho.

But you, my dear... *you* are intelligent and intense and... *sweet*...

Panicking, I look up to see how you're doing... I'm not hurting you, am I?

Your eyes are closed, and your breathing is quick and shallow. Good or bad?

Fuck - why didn't I keep my paws off you???

I crawl over you quickly.

"Sebastian...?" I ask urgently, leaning over you. "How do you feel??"



“Hhhhhwoooowwwwww...” I manage, sounding rather like a disturbed cat.

“Oh god don’t stop... please... that is - amazing...”

I am aware that I feel terribly lightheaded, but fuck, what a way to go...

Nono, I’m not going anywhere. With any luck, I won’t even faint. I’m determined not to. I wouldn’t want to miss a second of this.

You look relieved - aw, sweet worried killer - and - thank you, god - move back down.

You are too good at this - I am not sure how this can be a useful skill for a vampire - bloodsucker - cocksucker - heh - that’s funny...

Nooo, stay with it, Sebastian...

I will - if the room stays in position and stops spinning.

“Jim - I - oh fuck Jim - please -“ is all I can utter, but you understand - increase the pressure just that tiny bit - and I am pretty sure your neighbours have their pillows over their heads by now because I’m yowling.

Oh god - my beautiful prince - prince of darkness - oh fuck this is the best - you are the best -

Blackness... no no NO Moran; you are not fainting - he’ll panic, feel guilty, rush you to a hospital, or worst of all not risk doing this again.

I tense all my muscles to up my blood pressure as the orgasm of all orgasms pours out of me, into your mouth, and I’m making incoherent sounds, and clenching my fists to stay awake, stay with it soldier, dammit...

Demmings patting my face, then slapping it, yelling at me - don’t you fucking go anywhere, Moran... stay with me... warm sensation in my belly...


I’m here, Demmings... just - eyes are so hard to open...



Oh god... hearing your desire, feeling your desire, is *so* beautiful and hot...

your name on my lips...

your voice as you're howling your ecstasy towards the ceiling...


I've felt you come twice before this, but I was a tiny bit occupied with my own experience at the time.

This time I could focus solely on your gorgeous pleasure.... and worrying about landing you in the hospital or the morgue.

You're half-conscious by the time your shuddering and yowling have subsided. Why did I listen to you, Sebastian??

I move up to your head, pat your cheek, to no avail.

I slap you, and your eyes flutter a little.

I shout your name, and your head moves back and forth as mutter under your breath. *Demmings*?

"Who the *fuck* is Demmings?" I snarl. "Someone you slept with??"



“Sleep with Demmings...?” I giggle. “No, he’s straighter than a ruler... Stiles is for sleeping...


Sleeping sounds good...



“What! The fuck, Sebastian!!” I snap.

Did you just name-drop a former lover? Are you completely mental??

“Sebastian, you wake up right now, so I know you’re OK.... before I fucking *murder you*!” I shout, and slap you hard. *Probably* a bit harder than I needed to...

But it felt good. *Fuck*, it felt good... And it’s better than strangling you, or tearing out your throat, right?



Demmings, stop slapping me, you annoying git...

I open my eyes to tell him off - wait, we’re in a house. We shouldn’t be in a house. Weren’t we in a car? And Demmings doesn’t look like Demmings...

Wait - “Richard...”



You open your eyes. I'm just about to snarl at you again, when your face softens and you call me *Richard*...

I bite back an angry cursing tirade, and stare at you in shock. What is it about hearing that name from your lips...?

I throw my arms around your neck, and kiss you.

"Sebastian?" I say urgently. "Are you all right??"



“Richard... yes... I’m not hit? No...”

My head is swimming in and out between Afghanistan and here, which is... not Afghanistan... the other place... England? Ireland? London is England, right?

“I’m fine, my sweet prince...” I smile.

There’s something important though? About you?

“You are important...”



Hit? *I* hit you... *Oh*, a military hit...

My hand floats up to your cheek, and I caress you.

My poor soldier... So disoriented...

I should never have...

You smile at me, and my thoughts dry up.

*Sweet prince*...

*You are important*

“Oh...” I falter, my mind blanking. “Oh.”

I run my hand through your hair.

“Sebastian... You’re important too...” I say, staring at you in a daze.



"Me? No... I'm just a soldier..." I smile.

Wait, Moran. There is something. Try to think...

You're not drunk. You're not drugged. You're confused - lightheaded - shallow breathing - low blood pressure.



That was it.

"You're a vampire," I state, in case you'd forgotten.

You nod, looking at me carefully.

"... and you're Jim. And Richard. And my sweet prince... and prince of darkness. Bloodsucker and cocksucker..." I giggle.



Your smile makes you look giddy or drunk. Or both.

You recall that I’m a vampire without any alarm... and then summarize the events of the last few hours in the cutest, most disconcerting manner.

“Jesus...” I mutter. What have I done... I manage a grin.

“Yes, Sebastian... All true. You are the now the only person who has called me a cocksucker to my face and lived to tell about it. Congrats, darling...” I lean down and kiss your forehead. God.... this experience has transformed from predator to vampire nursemaid alarmingly quickly.

“I think you need more fluids.” I say carefully. “More of that wretched looking water? You're going to have more soup, whether you like it or not. That's an order, soldier..."

An image pops into my head - you as a wounded soldier, and me in a sexy white nurse’s outfit and black leather boots, with fangs out. Oh *god*... both of our brains have melted. Feeling hysterical laughter bubbling up within me, I press my lips together and maintain my stern demeanour.



Yes - drink. Fluids. Salt. Soup.

"Yes Sir," I grin, as you make your way out of the room and are back soon with a bottle of water, go back to the kitchen to look after the soup. I drink it - oh yes, that's better.

Now I need to piss though....

I carefully sit upright, manage to without dizzy spells. Move my legs off the bed.

"Where do you think you're going?" you ask, entering the room.

"Loo..." I try to get up. Slowly does it.

You're at my side in a second, have your arm around me, support me.

"I'm fine... just need to not stand up too quickly," I smile, but you're not moved and half-carry me on my way to the bathroom.

"Look... I'll be alright, Jim. Please, may I do this alone?" I ask. You scowl, wait outside the door - yes, that's going to make things easier...

I manage to do what I came for, wash my hands, get back out, where you're on me in a flash again and manhandle me back to the bedroom. God, you have to be the most solicitous vampire ever...

"Do you do this a lot? Half draining people and then deciding to nurse them back to health? You're very good at it..."



God, if I were still living, this would be exhausting - all this panic and worry and constant vigilance. Running from hydrating the recovering patient/victim, to heating soup, escorting you to the loo, and waiting in the hall, pacing anxiously.

If I didn’t know I’d regret it, I’d put a pillow over your face.

No, I wouldn’t.

Well, maybe.

No. The Richard side of me would be inconsolable - which makes no sense. Why hasn’t he dissipated like he’s supposed to? I’ve had stubborn personae before, but this is a whole other level of obstinacy.

You stumble out of the bathroom, and I leap to your side.

Your question about draining people and nursing them back to health makes me realize how ridiculous this entire situation has been... I can't even begin to explain why I did it, even to myself.

“Oh, *thank* you, Sebastian. I’m thinking of opening a hospital for vampire victims, so I appreciate the practice.” I roll my eyes, as I urge you back to bed. “Of *course* I don’t do this a lot,” I grumble. “Not finishing off the job is a giant pain in the arse. I’ll be sure to tell vampirekind - oh! Wait. They don’t care.”

I push you into bed, and pull the covers over you. “What else do you need, darling?” I fuss, tucking you in.




God, you're so sweet...

"I'm fine... I'm really fine. Just tired. I'll have some soup and maybe - maybe I should sleep..."

I don't want to, but I'm so tired...

"How do you - do you sleep during the day? Can you wake up? How does it work? You don't really sleep in a coffin, do you?"



“Soup first,” I chide. “Answers while you eat.” I leave the room and return moments later. You take the spoon firmly away from me, and bemused I sit next to you as you eat.

“First things first. It’s mostly not like what you see in films. I’ve never slept in a coffin in my unlife. I don’t *have* to sleep every day, any more than I *have* to eat every day. I never slept much when I was alive, either. But of course we’re stronger if we eat and sleep regularly. So *yes*, I can wake up, I’m just - not at my optimal power during the day. I’m nocturnal, but I can go out - I’m just extremely photosensitive and not comfortable in sunlight for more than a few minutes.”

It occurs to me as I’m telling you this that I don’t know you very well... can I trust that you won’t use it against me? Not at all. And yet, I seem to be divulging some rather pertinent information, don’t I?

“I didn’t mean to tell you all that,” I confess. “*Fuck*. I - shouldn’t have. I’m in a bit of a state, because of... everything. You’re not going to try to slay me, are you?” I demand. “*Are you*?? Daylight or not, I can still fuck you up, darling...” I stare at you in wounded indignation.



Soup is good. It's exactly what I need. I spoon the hot liquid inside as fast as I can.

"Slay you?" I look at you with amusement.

"Look at me - I could kill most people I sleep with. Or even the ones I don't sleep with. I don't, though. Just because I can kill someone doesn't mean I do - and why would I kill you? I told you, I don't have any trouble with who you are - you may be a vampire, but you're a damn sight more interesting than most people I've met. And the fact that you kill people - well, I would be the last one to judge, would I?" I chuckle.



I watch you closely.

“Vengeance?” I ask in a sullen voice. “I did try to kill you...”

I cross my arms, feeling suddenly awkward and self-conscious. “I wouldn’t have tried... if I had known what you’d be like...” I mutter. “Given the erm, circumstances of our acquaintance... I didn’t expect to be forgiven for the whole ‘tricking you and drinking you’ part of the evening... I’d say I wish I could take it back, if you weren’t the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. You can’t imagine how hard it was to stop.” I find myself licking my lips, then smile as contritely as I can. “You probably don’t want to hear that. But at the same time, it *wasn’t* hard to stop... The thought of the world without you in it...” I trail off, eyes widening. What exactly am I saying??



I'm gazing at you, eyes wide, mouth open, spoon somewhere between plate and mouth, forgotten.

known what you'd be like...

most delicious thing I've ever tasted... hold on, that sounds a bit... scary... though also oddly flattering...

thought of the world without you in it...


I look into your eyes - and there is Richard, my sweet prince, looking out at me, pleading for me not to reject him, not to hurt him, after his candid confession - and my heart does a weird thing in my chest; it feels like it's swelling as well as cracking and hot blood runs out of it, filling me up -

I put the soup on the nightstand and pull you to me, hold you so close... so close...

"My sweet prince..." I whisper, my voice unsteady. "I don't know what happened tonight... it's too fucked up to consider... but I do forgive you for tricking me and drinking me, if you don't do it again... at least not to such an extent...

Because - it may sound stupid, but all things considered... it's been one of the best nights I've ever had."

I look at your face, so beautiful, so haunting, haunted...



Oh god, we're back to staring into each other's eyes, only now the 'star-crossed' element appears to have shifted. We know each other's secret identities, we've divulged our awful secrets...

What stands between us now? One of us is vampire and one of us is not...

It can't work, but - it can't *not*.

After I reveal what I didn't mean to reveal, I'm pulled to you again. My arms slide around your warm body, and I breathe in your scent. It's easier now... being close to you physically without being tempted. I came too close to losing you already....

*Sweet prince* again... I could get used to this, I find myself thinking...

"I won't do it again..." I whisper fervently, as I press my face to yours. I feel tears pressing against the surface of my eyes, but I don't know how to set them free. "I *won't*... you have my word. You'd really let me - have a little?" I ask in amazement. After nearly draining you... you would -

Oh. Tears getting closer.

"It doesn't sound stupid at all..." I say intently. “But *one* of the best nights, Sebastian? Not good enough... I won't be satisfied until the best night of your life happens because of *me*..."

I rest my head against your shoulder. "My knight..." I sigh.



Oh you sweet possessive thing...

I’m so tired... but I don’t want to fall asleep, and it has nothing to do with fear of being unconscious in a predator’s arms. I just don’t want to not be with you...

Jesus Christ. Are you in love, Moran? First of all, you don’t do that. Ever.

(I know...)

Second, you hardly know him. And he keeps changing - how many people has he been in just these few hours?

(All so delightful though... sweet Richard... hot dominant Jim... caring vampire... temperamental lover...)

Third, he’s a vampire. A different species, which feeds on your species. As you have noticed. He’s already thinking about the next time! Run, don’t walk.

(That bite did feel good though... I wouldn’t mind that again, if it’s just a bit... not enough to drain me of strength, just a pint, like they take at the hospital.)

I refer you back to point one.

(Oh yes.)

I’m so tired... and I should get my strength back up.

“I am your knight, my prince. I am afraid I’m going to fall asleep soon... is that OK? Will you... stay with me?”

What the fuck Moran.



Your mind seems to be very busy, but your eyelids are drooping. Poor thing. You've gone through so much today...

My heart thrills when you speak. ‘I am your knight, my prince’...

God... I'm a vampire and I'm practically *swooning*...

Then I hear "Will you... stay with me?" and I have to stop myself from giving you the 'ohhh, who's the cutest kitty?' face.

"Do you think you could get rid of me, Sebastian? I'm the one who put you in this state; I'm not going anywhere until you're strong again..."

Although that does beg the question... what then?? But you need your rest, and now is not the time for such... terrifying thoughts.

"I'm right here," I assure you. "I'll watch over you, my brave, beautiful knight."

You smile and your face just *glows*. I'm in awe. I watch enraptured as your eyelids flutter, and you settle against me, breathing deeply and occasionally murmuring.

Now I'm in the highly unusual position of watching over my former victim who I'm nursing back to health....

My sweet knight who's a hired assassin, and doesn't mind that I'm a vampire.

My arms slide around you protectively, and I rest my head on yours.

There's light peeking out from under the blinds... dawn creeps forward. I fall into deep slumber before it reaches its destination.



I’m walking through the desert at night, and have to be careful of land mines. I had a map of where they are, but I smoked it, so now I have to remember, and it’s hard. But I worked out that if I squint in a certain way, I can see them glow.

I’m on my way back to camp from a reconnaissance mission, but I also can’t remember what I was supposed to find out. I shouldn’t have smoked that stuff...

It’s a full moon and there are no clouds; the sand mounds look like silver dunes. It would be very peaceful if it weren’t for the land mines. I’m tired and want to lie down, but I’m afraid I’ll turn over in my sleep and lie on a mine, so I keep going.

A cloud obscures the moon. That’s odd though - there were no clouds in the sky a moment ago. I look up to see a shape in the sky - what looks like a human flying, in a black cape - what the hell? Definitely the wrong stuff to smoke.

The human comes closer and I see fangs glittering - not a human then, a vampire - there was something about vampires in my mission, if only I could remember...

The vampire comes swooping at me and I cry out to him, try to warn that there are mines, don’t knock me down - but he’s already on me - I try to beat him off, but he grabs me under the arms and carries me with him into the air. He’s going the wrong way - not in the direction of camp - and that way are the Taliban - they’ll shoot us - and I’ve already been shot, I’d forgotten about that, blood is leaking from my abdomen, which must be what attracted the vampire.

I don’t see Taliban, just desert as far as the eye can see.

The creature finally puts me down on top of a turret of what looks like a church/mosque hybrid building and lands next to me. I try to look at his face; but I can’t - a black hood obscures his features.

“I can’t go in, but you must,” he says.

“Will you wait for me?” I ask. I have no idea where I am; I won’t be able to get back on my own.

“I can’t...” you say. “The sun is coming up...”

A flurry of cape, and you’re off. I look around, see a flight of stairs, walk down. There’s a small room at the bottom of the stairs full of books, a globe, a stuffed crocodile hanging from the ceiling, strange concoctions in flasks. No door, which is inconvenient. I start looking around the room for any trapdoors, hidden entrances, but I can’t find any. There is a candle burning though, so someone must have been here - I’ll just sit and wait.

I pick up a book lying on a bench, but it’s in a weird script that I can’t read. There are some diagrams, but they don’t make much sense.

The door opens (where did that come from?!) and you walk in, but it’s not vampire-you, it’s Richard-you. He/you look appalled. “How did you get here?! Quick, hide!” and bundle me into a wardrobe.

The door opens again just as I am inside and something enters. I can’t see it but I feel a sudden terror. I hide as far away in the wardrobe as I can, pray the thing doesn’t open the door.

“Where is he?” a voice like a thousand-year-old coffin being opened.

“W-who?” Richard stammers.

“We saw him fly in... where did he go?”

“I haven’t s-seen anything - honest!”

“You are a bad boy... you are lying to us...”

“No - NO!!!” Richard’s voice sounds absolutely terrified - I’m terrified too, but I can’t - I must help him, he’s small and delicate - but I am so scared - I’m never scared...

I’m petrified, but I must...

A high scream - Richard -

“Leave him alone! I’m here!” I shout, jumping out of the wardrobe - but there’s nothing there, just blackness...

I fall and fall -

I wake to see a face asleep close to mine - Richard - you’re safe...



Sleep is different as a vampire - feels more like falling into a deep, dark hole and being buried deep in the earth. I didn't mention this to you, when I didn't know if I could trust you not to kill me in my sleep. But apparently some part of me decided to trust you, because I fell asleep when you did.

I do dream as a vampire... not often, but it happens. This time I dreamed...

I was on a beach.

You were getting a tan, and I was nervously hiding under an umbrella, peeking out at the fireball in the sky.

I kept telling you I should go, but I didn't want to spoil your fun in the sun, as you listened to music, singing along and sipping margaritas.

I was blistering... bleeding from my ears.... and you suggested we go collect sea shells.

I was trying to drag you out of the sunlight, telling you it would hurt me - you kept asking if I wanted ice cream.

And I wanted to... I wanted to walk on the sand with you, and collect sea shells, splash you with water, push my ice cream cone onto your nose...

I wanted to like I *never* wanted to in life... because I wanted to be with you.

And I can't... I *can't*.

When I wake up from the dream with a loud gasp, I discover that I've remembered how to cry.



I stare at you as you sleep. Memories slowly trickle in. It's hard to differentiate between dream and reality... especially when reality is weirder than the dream.

I reach for the water bottle, drink the last of it. It's starting to taste salty again, good.

So. I went home with a sexy shy sweet lad called Richard and fucked him and fell for him pretty bad.

That's already off. I don't fall for people.

Then sweet shy Richard turned out to have a wicked side - and then he fucked me, after tying me to the bed and whipping me - hnghn.

And I fell even harder. Hm.

But then whilst fucking me, Richard's wicked side bit me and sucked the life out of me. Because he's a vampire. Called Jim.

And then vampire Jim decided that he couldn't imagine a world without me - oh god - he actually said that... oh god...

... and tried to nurse me back to health.

And I told him what I do for a living (?!) and he thought it was hot (?!?) and I said I didn't mind he was a vampire (!?!).

Anything else?

I look at the sweet sleeping boyish face on the pillow, looking so young in the little light that comes past the dark curtains, so young when the eyes that make him look a thousand years old are closed.

Oh yes... there is something else...



(No. Moran, no.)


I am utterly, irrevocably in love.

(Fucking hell, Moran...)


My thoughts are interrupted when you stir. Your face is looking torn, upset, and my protective side wants to grab you, comfort you, but I don't know how vampires respond when you wake them from a dream - do they even dream? Well, evidently they do -

And then tears are forming - what do I do?

With a gasp you wake up, stare at me - do you recognize me?



I jump up into a predatory crouch and my head whips around looking for danger and sunlight.

No danger - *Sebastian*.

You're frozen, looking at me with such concern.

My eyes are stinging, and I blink rapidly, then rub them. My hands come away with faint traces of blood. Oh... right.

When vampires cry... it's not blood like in films, but blood-streaked tears.

I haven't done this in a very long time... not since I was first turned.

Self-consciously I grab a tissue from the nightstand and wipe my eyes. The tissue comes away with pale red stains, and I crumple it so you won't see.

I look at you and you're still frozen. "Sebastian?" I ask hesitantly. "How do you feel?" I touch your face. "You need fluids... I'll get you more water and soup..."



There’s blood in your tears - are you hurt? Why are you crying, what’s wrong?

You touch my face, ask how I am... I’m fine, but you...

“I’m alright - are you ok?” You look so tense... “Did you have a nightmare? There was... blood on your face...”



"Nightmare. Yes. It's nothing..." I assure you, sniffling. "Just blood from my tears; it's part of the package..." I smile wryly at you. "You've had quite the crash course on vampirism since we met. I don't want to see this on a 'Vampires are Real' website..." I nudge you, and get up.

When I return with your water, you're sitting up. Damn. You're so beautiful... but you still look concerned.

I hand you your water bottle. "You look so much better... chicken noodle or beef with barley?"



“Ugh. Soup for breakfast? What am I, a toothless old biddy? Can you do a full English? And coffee... please tell me you have coffee...And orange juice to replenish the folate."

I’m feeling a lot better after my sleep though still lightheaded and weak. But I think I could get up, if I don't rush.

"I can cook it myself, I think, if you show me the kitchen... we didn't quite get round to the tour of the house last night," I smile.

"And don't worry, I won't put anything about vampires online, if you don't sell articles to Buzzfeed titled 'You won't believe the chosen career of Lord Moran's son!'"

There. Now you know a secret of mine. Hopefully that will put you at ease a bit.



I blink and tilt my head. Lord Moran's son? How unexpected... how *delightful*...

"I* will make you breakfast, and *you* can sit at the table like a good recovering vampire victim. Yes, everything I need is here. I'm only renting this flat for a week, so there's plenty of food to be had, and juice and coffee..."

I sit on the bed, staring at you in fascination.

"So how much does your illustrious father know about you and your career path? I'm familiar with him... Before I was a vampire, I had a rather specific career myself..." I hesitate, and pick a loose thread from the duvet. I know you're not one to judge, but I'm not used to sharing so much about myself, especially with people I've only just met. (But you did share a lot about yourself, so... get over it, Jim!!)

"I was a consulting criminal. My clients came to me to... get certain objectives accomplished. Since I was turned, I've generally had people dealing with my organization for me. I'm far less personally involved, but I still check in on business, and oversee as needed..."

I stare at you, wondering how you're going to take this news...



Oh really?... consulting criminal? Never heard that term used, but it makes sense. I might have done jobs for your organization then..."

You look at me relieved. Really? Were you afraid that I was alright with you being a vampire, but I'd draw the line at criminal? Who do you think hires me?

"My illustrious father knows that he has no son, and will silence anyone who ever brings up the stain on his life. I haven't spoken with him since I was a teenager. He didn't approve of my life choices."

I'm not going into that. That's - no...


No. Don't think about that.

Love... love causes pain...

I said don't think about it.

I look at you, brighter than I feel. "So, breakfast?"



I watch you carefully as you process... and speak... and *process*... what is going on in your head? What happened between you and Lord fucking Moran? I won’t press - I understand the need to keep things secret. Although I’m wildly curious... hmmm....

“Breakfast, yes...” I say cheerily. “You may have worked for me? So if I hadn’t been turned into a vampire, we might have met on the job... there’s a thought! To be honest, I lost interest in the organization when I lost my life... worldly things didn’t mean the same thing to me anymore.” And I fell off the fucking rails, but we don’t need to get into that now... oh, I understand the need for secrecy all too well, my dear...

“But! It gives me money and people to do the things I need, run errands, lease flats, get rid of bodies, the usual...

Oh, your father has his own skeletons in his closet, so he shouldn’t cast aspersions... also he’s an arsehole, as I’m sure you’ll well aware. If you ever want to get back at him... my information and my resources are at your disposal.” I flash a wicked smile at you, and stand up. “Let me help you up, darling...”



"Dear papa has skeletons in his closet? I assume other ones than the ladies he amused himself with when dear mama was away? Well what do you know... I may actually want to learn about those at some point, thank you."

I've stayed away from dear papa for all those years, because... well. Mostly I didn't want to think about him, about what he did. There was always something else to focus on.

Anyway. Breakfast. And sweet mysterious vampires. Much more interesting than boring old Lord Augustus.

I follow you to the kitchen, where you push me down on a chair and refuse to let me do anything as you pour me an orange juice and offer me a choice of coffees, then look at me aghast as I opt for the instant, but make me a cup regardless.

I drink it as you busy yourself cooking beans, eggs, hash browns, sausages, bacon... it all smells absolutely delicious. I'm famished - probably because of the blood loss.

"So - you can drink but not eat? Or were you pretending to drink yesterday?"



“Don’t believe everything you read or see in a film... I can eat, and I can drink,” I say, nudging the plump sausages with a spatula to grill evenly. “I can’t explain why. I’ve tried to find answers, but I have yet to find anyone who could explain it. Maybe I should start a top-secret lab to study vampirism... but first I’d have to turn the scientists, so they’d keep my secret.” I stop focusing on breakfast foods for a moment, and contemplate this. “Hm. interesting...” I notice you staring at me, and I smile. “Something to consider. For now - breakfast is served.” I distribute the elements of your full English breakfast onto a large platter, and put it in front of you with a flourish. “I hope this is sufficiently good. I was never much for food, even when I was human...” The toaster *dings* and I stack four pieces of toast on a plate for you. I sit next to you, and watch you as you taste everything. I pick up a rasher of bacon, consider it, and take a bite. *Crunch*.

I nod. “Mmm. And now I’m wondering why I stopped eating. I suppose because there was no one to share a meal with...” My tongue darts out and I lick my lips.



So - does the food nourish you? I mean - you say don't believe everything you read or see in a film, but - sorry, but that's the extent of my vampire knowledge. I've seen Bram Stoker's Dracula and all five of the Twilight films... and that's it. Read a few books - so anything I know is going to come from that. Or, not know, but - have heard about vampires. I never thought that I'd have to actually check it against reality at any one point. On account of vampires not existing. So - sorry if I seem to be overly inquisitive, but yeah - I literally have no frame of reference except fantasy.

Do you mind my questions?"



“I don’t mind your questions at all...” I sip your orange juice. Mmm... tastes like sunshine.

“So... you watched all five Twilight films?” I hide my smile in your coffee cup, but when I sip it, I sputter. “This is *horrible*...” I cough. “Why would you put this in your body?”

I take a suggestive bite of sausage, watching you as I do.

“Tasty,” I say innocently. “Well, there are trace nutrients that my body can use, if it didn’t have blood... but it wouldn’t satisfy me for long. I don’t *need* food, but I *need* blood.”

I have another sip of your juice. “When I was first turned, I watched and read everything I could find on vampires. So I read and saw all the Twilights, too. And if *I* were Edward... Jacob would have met with an accident by the second film.” I grin. “I didn’t get much information out of films, obviously... but it would be amusing to watch them again. Twilight marathon?” I ask you cheekily.



Is a vampire inviting me to watch a Twilight marathon?

A vampire is inviting me to watch a Twilight marathon. Dear god.

And I'm about to accept. Just sit on the sofa together watching crappy films, drinking fluids and eating soup. Like a sweet guy nursing his partner who's got a cold. Except the sweet guy is the one who drank all the blood from the partner. And the partner isn't a partner. Just a guy he picked up in order to kill, and then didn't.

... I thought life was going to get less adventurous after coming back to London.

But I find that I really want to stay and be nursed back to health. Watching crappy films sounds divine, as long as it's with you.

Fuck - I'm going to have to cancel the client I was going to meet tonight. I don't like doing that - I like to have a reputation for being reliable - but I don't think I'll be quite ready to go and walk around yet. I can just about stand up if I do it slowly - that's hardly going to inspire confidence.

"So - are you going to have to go out tonight? Find someone - take them home and eat them?"



You look like you’re going to accept my ridiculous invitation. I’m thinking about reaching for your hand and...


“Tonight?” I repeat. “Oh... erm... I don’t *have* to. I had some yesterday - well, obviously.” Still hungry. “I could leave it for another-“ *Still hungry*.

“Yeah. I should find someone...” My shoulders sag slightly. It feels like we’re both under an enchantment... if either of us leaves... the spell will be broken.

But I can’t risk getting too hungry around you...

Does that mean.... I could lose you?

*Lose* him? I demand of myself. He’s not *yours*. You decided to spare him, fine. You want to play out the nursing your boyfriend back to health scenario, fine. But you can’t *keep* him... he’s *human*...

But... I think mournfully.

*No*... I say firmly.

Jesus.... what did Richard do to me??

I get up sadly to make tea. Humans do that, don’t they. British humans. Make tea to make everything better? I watch the kettle boil. Not feeling better yet...


Chapter Text

The pattern of moonlight on the bedroom floor is a cold fire
Don't let me down
The flame at the heart of a pawnbroker's diamond is a cold fire
Don't break the spell
The look in your eyes as you head for the door is a cold fire



You seem... sad? Why? Because I asked if you had to go out?

Well I'm not exactly dancing at the thought either... You going to some club, chat up some guy... Bring him over here...

"I guess I will have to leave then... so you can bring your dinner home..."

I don't want to leave. I want to stay and watch Twilight with you and fall asleep with you again. Not go home to an empty cold apartment while you bring someone else here... kiss them, fuck them, bite them...

Kill them. I mean, I get you're jealous, Seb, but there will be killing involved. I mean, that is a bit of a downside to the whole thing.

Still. I have to admit I am very not happy. With both the seducing someone else and the having to leave.

I think I look quite unhappy too when you put a cup of tea next to my coffee.



What?? Why would I bring my dinner home?? Where are *you* going to be?!

My mouth goes into a hard line as I bring over your tea and place the cup on the table with a thump.

“You’re not going anywhere!” I snap. You look at me in shock. I try to fashion a contrite expression.

“I mean - you’re still too weak. You can’t go anywhere! I need to get you strong again...” I sit down and stare at you intently. “I wasn’t going to bring someone home! Is that what you thought?” I demand.



Whoa, what's that? Is that you being possessive again?

OK, that is a bit scary. I mean - you are going to let me go, aren't you? When I'm recovered?

"I don't know!" I say, a bit more forcefully than I meant to. "I don't know how you commonly work! For all I know, you have a guy in your bed every night, have a fuck, then a fag, then a good drink of blood, then get your guys to dispose of the body! And I certainly wouldn't want to be here for that!"



My mouth drops open. How *dare* you...

“I *do not* have a guy in my bed every night!” I say, fuming. “Sometimes I just drink from them in an alley. If I *do* bring someone back to where I’m staying, they usually don’t get any farther than the living room. Maybe we kiss... but mostly I just pounce on them and it’s done! It’s been *a very long time* since I’ve been with anyone sexually... and everything Richard said to you was *true*, if that’s of any interest to you! And... if *anyone* was likely to have a different person in their bed every night, it would be *you*,” I say in an injured voice. “Isn’t that so, Sebastian...?”





... oh.

... oh yes.

You kind of got me there.

But those people don’t mean anything...

... yeah, like your victims mean anything to you? Apart from dinner?

Well I don’t know! How was I supposed to know?

“... sorry.” I mumble. “I... don’t know how you work, is all.”



I glare at you. I didn’t get nearly as angry as I thought I would... the Richard effect is still impacting my reactions. I’m not sure what to do...

“I don’t work like *that*... “ I sulk. “And - I don’t want you to go.”

I stare at the steaming teacup, not meeting your eyes. “Don’t go...”



Oh.. oh don’t look at me like that... oh my sweet prince, I’m sorry, I was jealous...

I get up, move to you, but my damn head - I fall against the table, spilling tea. You are up in a flash, your arms around me, supporting me.

“I’m sorry... still lightheaded...” I mumble as you lower me onto the chair. “I wanted to hug you... looks like I got what I wanted...” I grin.



I manage to keep you from hurting yourself, but I can't help but thinking *my fault, my fault!* as I help you sit back down. God... I didn't feel guilt as a human, and I'm feeling it as an undead creature?? How does that make a lick of sense??

"You wanted - to hug me?" I repeat, staring at you.

Hugging - also something I did not do as a human. And vampires sure as fuck don't *hug*...

Slowly I lower myself onto your lap. I feel your arms move around me, and I do the same.

I should - really not be encouraging this kind of behaviour... it won't lead to anything good.

There is no future for you with him, James Moriarty!

"So... you'll stay?" I mumble into your neck, my head resting on your shoulder.



"I'm hardly in a position to run away," I grin. You don't look amused.

"That was a joke. I don't want to leave... I really like it here. I like being with you. Last night, I was thinking how much I would like to stay, would like to wake up with you, stay another night... while knowing it was impossible. Now... it looks like that is what I will be doing, and I am so happy..." I pull you towards me. You are so light, so small, so sweet...

So is a black widow! Will you stop seeing him as cute!? He's a fierce killer!

Well, so am I...

You're no match for him!

Yeah... he's so fast, so fierce, so lethal...

Yeah, OK. sanity and I never had more than a nodding acquaintance.

So. I'm in love with a vampire. Well, it went alright for Bella...

That's different. You. Cannot. Fall. In. Love. With a vampire, with Richard, with anyone. Not happening.

But maybe... maybe vampires are different? They're a different species? Maybe...

Then you kiss me, and all thoughts cease.



I feel tension leave my body when you say you won't be leaving. But - what's one night? What about tomorrow?? WHY am I asking these questions??

And you seem rather conflicted, yourself... why are *you* conflicted? Why *wouldn't* you want to be with me??

My jaw sets with determination.

What - are you doing?? I demand of myself, and I'm utterly ignored.

My hands go to your cheeks, my lips seek out yours...

We kiss...

We kiss and as the kiss deepens, my legs wrap around your waist, pulling you forward sharply from the back of the chair. My arms pull your chest tightly against mine.

"Yessss.... Be happy. Stay..." I murmur against your lips in between kisses.



What... are you enchanting me or something?

I feel enchanted... but not like my free will is being tampered with...

But then wouldn't any enchanted person feel that way?

I don't know... but I know that right now there is nothing else I want to do than kiss you... and if that is being enchanted, so be it - it's not that much out of character.

But the falling in love... that is very much out of character. However, if I ask you, there's no way you're going to tell the truth if you are enchanting me...

But what would be the point? You can do this charming thing, I think you said - or was that in a book? Anyway, you can do that to lure your prey, so you can drink their blood. If you don't want to drink my blood, why would you be enchanting me? And if you do want to drink my blood, why didn't you? It doesn't seem very likely that vampires charm people because they are lonely and want a lover...

or is it?

Fucking hell... I'm going to have to learn a lot about vampires, and the only source I have is biased...

Also kissing me so sweetly...

Is that me thinking that?

Fuck -

I break off from the kiss. You look at me, questioningly.

"I'm sorry, I need the loo..." I say.



Mmmm... I like kissing you.

I *really* like kissing you.

I could do this for a very long time... and often.. every day...

Jesus fucking *Christ*, Jim...

I thought we established that there is *no future* here... you can have *one more night*.

Then, *done*.

Inwardly, I seethe at this self-imposed restriction - I'm a creature of the night, and I can do what I want!!

Mmm... more of your lips is what I want.

And more of your... *everything*.

is it too soon for you to...?

Suddenly you stop kissing. Why did you stop kissing?!

Oh. You did have all that water and coffee and juice and tea...

I get off you, feeling rejected.

"Down the hall, Sebastian..." I say graciously.

Who's stopping you, Sebastian... I think ungraciously, and start clearing the table.



I get up slowly and carefully, manage to without falling, then walk down the hall. You seem a bit miffed at my stopping the kiss and don't accompany me - that's fine, I don't want you hovering outside the door.

I enter the bathroom, lock it, and look in the mirror. I wonder if you have a reflection... that's probably a myth too. People would notice if you hadn't.

I look pale and my eyes are bloodshot. I throw some cold water on my face, hoping that it will help me think clearer.

I've been in worse situations - but never in weirder.

With a sigh, I sit on the toilet, get my phone out of my trousers. I'll need to charge it soon...

I start up the internet, search 'Are vampires real', scroll through the results. History pages about people with diseases. Deluded people who think they need blood to live. Role players and fetishists.

But then. 'My Friend Was Killed by a Vampire'. A recent article. I click. A girl whose friend went with a guy that she had a bad feeling about. Went to check on them. Saw him drinking her friend's blood. Panicked, went to find help. Returned - not a sign of the guy or the friend. Never seen again. No one believes her.

Comments - most of them useless in the nature of internet comments, but there's one of a guy who claims that the same thing happened to his friend. As I click on 'Expand' to read the rest of the comment, the loading wheel turns for a long time, then the connection times out. I try to reload the page, but it won't. I open another screen - google works. I try the back button on my article, but get the 'page cannot be loaded' again, then the google results page. I try to find the article again - can't.

A knock on the door.

"Sebastian? Are you alright? I don't want to disturb you - just make sure you haven't fainted?"

"I'm alright, thanks - I'll be out in a minute," I call back.

I try a few more searches; 'my friend was killed by a vampire', 'I met a real vampire', but nothing.

I flush, wash my hands, walk back to the kitchen.



You’re in the bathroom for a long time... are you trying to figure something out? Plotting something? No... you told me your secret identity... you must trust me? Just like I must trust you... god knows I told you way more than I should have. But I wanted that experience. Trust. I’ve never had that. Not since... childhood. My brother. But that was a lifetime ago... and since then I have lived a veritable lifetime, died to it, and risen from the ashes.

You’re gone long enough that I have time to finish cleaning up and load the dishwasher. I sit at the table, agitated. What are you doing?? Are you lying on the bathroom floor with a concussion? Shit...

I check, you answer, I return. I make more tea because I don’t know what else to do. And then I hear the door creak, and your almost silent footsteps.

“You’re sure you’re alright?” I ask quietly, not looking up. “I made more tea. I don’t actually know how you take it...”

I don’t know why this makes me feel so sad. I wish I knew how you took your tea. And I wish I could fill my days with learning the rest.



"Black like my soul," I reply.

You look sad. Why do you look sad?

I pull you onto my lap again. You look a bit hesitant, but do sit down.

"Where were we?" I ask, wrapping my arms around you.



I thought you’d be different when you returned. Distant. Cool. Closed off.

You make a joke. You look at me questioningly. You sit down.

I’m pulled into your lap.

Soldier arms about me. Growing stronger.

I look up at you, unsure.

“I thought... maybe you changed your mind...” I say hesitantly.

You look confused. “No...why?”

*Why* does it feel like tears are on their way? Tears can’t be on their way!! I’ve already cried more in my vampire life than I did since I was twelve!!

“What... are we *doing*, Sebastian?” I say in a hollow voice. “Are we fucking mental? This can’t go anywhere... you know it can’t!!”

With my words hitting the air, it feels like something fragile just smashed between us.

The tears begin to pour...




Why didn't you slap me in the face? I would have preferred that...

I look at your face, aghast, to see blood-stained tears rolling out of your eyes.

Oh, Richard... Jim...

Wait, why is your face getting blurry? Why are my eyes hot? Oh fuck, Sebastian - don't you start...

I pull you close, and for a minute, we are just silently letting tears flow - both of us - mourning the loss of something that didn't exist a day ago, but now seems like the focus of our world.

Our world... the little world of you and me in this apartment.

Of course it couldn't last...

But I was hoping to delay that realization a bit further...



Oh... now *you’re* crying, too...

“I’m - sorry, Sebastian...“ I sob. “I should never have... wait why are *you* crying?? *You’re* the one with the stupid rule! Weren’t you just going to leave tomorrow anyway?” I demand bitterly.

I look at you weeping, and fresh tears come pouring out of my stinging eyes.

“I thought you fucking liked me!!” I howl, and bury my face in your hair.




"Me!? My stupid rule!? My stupid rule is for people who don't know about my bloody job! I explained that! You know about my stupid job - you have a terrible secret of your own, that I know about - it's not my stupid rule... I do like you..." I'm properly sobbing now. "I like you... so fucking much... I don't want to leave... Or if I do, I want to come back..."

I grasp you like I'm afraid you are going to make a run for it. I mustn't - I don't know if you can bruise, but - keep yourself together, Sebastian... try to, at least...



“Well, your stupid rule must be about more than your stupid job because it was going to make you leave! And I don’t fucking want you to go!” I shout. “You’re the only one I’ve ever liked... I mean, fucking *ever*! How am I supposed to go on, knowing what I could have had? Why’d you have to be so fucking perfect? Oh god,” I sob into your chest. “This is all *fucking Richard’s fault*... everything was fine until he decided he wanted you to be his - “

I shut my mouth, horrified.



"Who said I was going to leave!? I was going to leave before you fucking sucked me dry and then tried to nurse me back to health! You were going to leave! You had your clothes on and everything!

I don't fucking want you to go!" I shout with my eyes fully streaming now. "I don't know what all this is, what you are, what is happening, but I haven't felt this way in - ever! About you, about Richard - you've fucking enchanted me, or I've fallen in love, I don't know -"

Wait. That was one more statement than intended.



“I have *not* enchanted ye, I told you I don’t do that!! What? Ye *what*??” I demand. “Don’t you *dare* say that word unless you mean it. Richard can’t take that kind of heartbreak if you change your mind!!” I grasp your shoulders. “I’m *not* going anywhere... Don’t *you* go anywhere! I’ve wanted ye from the beginning, ye focker!”

Oh perfect... Throw in a little more Irish, just to add to my fucking torment!



You're shouting at me, but I don't hear what you're saying. The white noise in my head is too much.

You can't - you fucking CAN'T...


I get up, half-dropping you off my lap, my eyes blind with tears.

"I can't - I can't...

I'm sorry, I have to go..."

I stumble, holding on to the table - to the doorway - my coat is in the living room - boots in the bedroom - fuck - such an obstacle course...







One moment you're saying you may have fallen in -


And the next...

*the next*...

Fine. *Leave*.


Through a blur of red tears, I watch you stumble against the table.

In a flash I've intercepted you.

"Where do you think you're going?" I demand. "You can barely walk! And - we're in the middle of a conversation!!!"

My hands tighten in your shirt.




"I need to go - please, Richard - Jim... Can you - get my clothes? Call a cab? Please..."

I don't want to go... Please, keep me here...

I have to... Just - some fresh air, some time to think...

Think about what!? You're not going to think about...


"Just - please..."



We're frozen into a tableau, and it will haunt me.

What have I done? There's no coming back from this...

When I was living I didn't feel my heart - not since childhood.

Strange that I should feel it now...

What does it feel like when your heart breaks? Is this the feeling? squeezing... sharp pain...

Like you can't breathe (even though I don't even *need* to breathe)...

like a big, jagged piece of glass has been shoved through your diaphragm...

Heart disintegrating so slowly... it could take days... weeks... months...

I feel my former human self shaking his head at me.

'This is why we *don't feel*... *eejit*...' he says scathingly, and walks away.

Right. Being a vampire has muddied the waters, and I forgot my number one rule... but you helped me remember, Sebastian.

I stare at you long and hard.

"As. You. Wish. Darling."

My hands slowly release your shirt, and drop from you.

I refuse to look at you. I call a cab, collect your clothes and boots, leave them on the sofa. Then I collect my own jacket, pull a hoody over my head and put on sunglasses.

"The cab will ring you on the intercom when it arrives. If you need help getting downstairs, buzz the cabbie up. Have some iron supplements, keep drinking fluids, and fuck you, Sebastian," I snarl and storm out, slamming the front door behind me.



You're hurt... of course you're hurt; here we were throwing ourselves at each other, and all of a sudden I crack - but I have to get out - I have to...

No! Jim/Richard, don't go! Don't... please...

Too late. You're gone.

What have you done!? He's gone! He's the best thing you've encountered in years and he's gone! You chased him away! You hurt him!

I can't - too much - I can't... not allowed...

You're never going to see him again. You are going to die alone and sad.

Well that was what I was planning... what's changed?


Black eyes, tears with blood...

If it could be anyone...


My eyes keep streaming as I put on my clothes, make my way downstairs, get into the cab, head to my apartment, stopping by a Boots where the cabbie picks me up some supplements. I explain I got hurt and have trouble walking, and he kindly helps me all the way to my door, giving me a card and telling me to call him if I need anything else picked up or if I need to go see a doctor.

I had thought I'd feel relieved when I'm back in my own environment. I open the window to let some air in, take a few deep breaths, light a fag.

I just feel empty.


Endless depths...

falling in love...


That's it. That's the clincher. You don't fall in love.

What if I do, though?

You swore.

I was fifteen...

An oath is an oath. Do you want to betray his memory?


Such pain. My entire stomach and heart area feel like they're being stabbed with icicles.

I stumble to my bed, grabbing a whisky bottle on the way. I send a text to the prospective client that I have a bad flu and will have to see him some other time. I glug from the bottle and pass out.



When I left, the plan was to go to my penthouse on Conduit Street, my permanent residence. I never take anyone there... I just rent places for a week or two under different names, or through various company names.

The thought of being alone in that flat after you left was too much... it was bad enough feeling fucking heartbroken. I was not about to be *left behind*... you were lucky I didn't kill you then and there, Sebastian. I should have. I would probably be feeling a lot better than *this*.

What is it about you? Why can't I do it??

Instead of calling a car to come get me, I wait in the shadows from across the street to see you come out. After about five minutes, a cab pulls up to the front of the building. The cabbie buzzes you and in a couple of minutes, you appear, looking weak and shaken.

I suck in my breath. What is about you that makes me *breathe* again?

Your cab turns a corner and disappears. I sink against the building and close my eyes. I don't need to follow you in a car. I have your last name, but I don't need to track your address - it would probably be under an alias anyway, but it *doesn't matter*. I can find you anytime, anywhere on god's green earth. I have tasted your blood and you're a part of me now.

So how do I forget you? Knowing you're *out there*...

How do I allow you to live?

I call for a car, and it arrives within minutes. Luckily it's an overcast day, but even still, my eyes are stinging from daylight. It's definitely daylight... not tears. I will not shed another tear for you, *Sebastian Moran*...

I don't have an address to give the driver, so I direct him with closed eyes... left, right... turn here, no HERE... until I find your building.

With stinging eyes, and a heart burning with anger, seething with resentment, I climb. It's raining now, and people are scurrying with their umbrellas, not looking up. But I don't care if anyone sees me; what are they going to fucking do? Balcony to balcony, window ledge to window ledge, I climb... until I find your window and peer in.

It's dark, but I can see just fine. You're drinking from a bottle, and it's not water. That is *not* what I meant by fluids, Sebastian... are you fucking serious?? I spared your life, and this is how you think you're going to recover??

I should just put you out of your misery... I can only forget you if you're fucking dead. My hand presses against the window pane. I go to slide it open, and I pause.

You put the bottle down and you look haunted... broken.

I hear myself whimper, then furiously shake myself.

I'm not going to put you down like a dog. I'll wait. Before too long, you'll be walking through the streets, all leather and swagger. The minute you're on the prowl, I will fucking be there.

And that's when I'll do it - *finish what I started*.

And then, and only then, I can forget you.

The man who made my heart come alive for one day.

Before he crushed it.



I wake when it’s dark, feeling disoriented, sick, and thirsty.

My dreams were disjointed and disconcerting, and it takes me a while to separate what happened in them with what happened for real. And it’s only because I have the bite that I can fully accept that what was real is real.

I drag myself out of bed, make a bottle of water with rehydration salts, take an iron tablet with it. Throw a ready-meal in the microwave and eat it without tasting anything.

Then I just sit at my table, watching the darkness. You are probably out hunting.

No. Don’t think of him. Forget him.


It’s the rules. One night. No exceptions. No excuses. No attachments.


Black eyes in which I could see forever...

You’re the only one...


You had your only one, and he’s dead - not undead! Really permanently dead and buried. Because of you, Sebastian.

You swore you would never love again. And you did a great job, up to now.

But - I said I wouldn’t love again because my love kills. He is already dead...

Are you making excuses!? Trying to weasel out of your vows!?

No... no, of course not...

You made your decision. You made your vows. Your life is how it is. And that is right.


I stare at the empty plate for I don’t know how long. I don’t want to watch TV. I don’t want to read, or play a game. I don’t want to sit here staring at nothing. But because I can’t think of anything else, it’s what I do.

I recall your comment about the Twilight marathon. I remember how Bella was when Edward had disappeared... is that me? Am I a weak sixteen-year-old now? A bleak shell without his vampire boyfriend? Who he’s only known for one day?

Fuck off, Moran. It’s the blood loss - it makes you weak both mentally and physically. Just get your strength back and you’ll be fine.



I rest my forehead against the window for an instant, before pushing off and climbing back down. This is one aspect of vampire life I would normally enjoy, but at this moment it means nothing to me.

When I get to the ground, I once again call for a car. It's still too light out to be outside, and I'm starting to feel weak. I'm definitely going to need to feed tonight. But for the rest of the day, I'm going to sleep and not think about you.

When the car arrives, I mutter to the driver before huddling in the back seat and closing my eyes. Luckily, it has tinted windows and I can hide away from the light.

I wake with a start as I hear the driver's voice, and look around wildly. *Where the fuck* - oh. I didn't mean to fall asleep in the fucking *car*. Jesus... get your shit together, Jim.

"Why are we *here*?" I snap through the intercom, as I stare at the building we've stopped in front of.

"This is the destination you requested, Sir," the driver responds.

What the fuck? I meant to go to the penthouse, not the fucking *flat*... fuck it. I'm exhausted, my eyes fucking hurt, and I don't want to fall asleep in the car again as we go clear across the city. I'm not going to think about - a *certain* cruel soldier, I'm just too tired to give a shit.

I hunch against the light, and go into the building. When I walk in through the front door, I look around the flat and a flash of pain goes through my insides. Stop looking at things! I shout at myself. Just go to fucking bed and *forget* all this...

I ignore my hunger pangs, check the windows are locked, and turn on a laser detection system at the front door. Then I lock the bedroom door, set up another detection system, and fall into bed.

In the darkness, I feel Richard crumpling into tears.

You brought this on yourself, I snap at him. And now it's for me to handle...

Don't hurt him, Richard whispers.

*He* hurt *me*, I hiss.

I pull the duvet over my head, and feel myself tumbling into blackness.



I can't sit staring at the wall for the rest of the night.

Can't I?

No. I need to do something to distract myself.

I head into the living room, start up Call of Duty. I try to play. It bores me.

I let myself get killed, then flick through the channels. Nothing.

I'm too tired to get up though, so settle on the History Channel.

It bores me too, but at least it doesn't require me to press any buttons.



I wake up in a panic. Sebastian - must check on -



Oh, this is just fucking *amazing*... thank you very fucking much, *Richard*.

Couldn't we-

Whatever the fuck you're going to say, *don't say it*. No, we can't! We are getting up. Getting dressed. Finding someone obnoxious to eat, so I can be as vicious as I like. Going back to the penthouse, and not returning here *ever again*.

Hmm... what do I have a craving for...

I smile slowly.

Flouncing goth bitch.

*No one* treats Richard like that.

It's Saturday night. She could very well be returning to the scene of the crime... If not, I'll just invite another pretentious prat out for a smoke - and then keep returning to that club until I see her. It has *nothing* to do with anyone else.

I head into the bathroom for a shower, humming In the Hall of the Mountain King. A vicious kill is exactly what I need to feel like myself again... I'm so going to enjoy this...



I should drink more. I look at my empty water bottle. Go and fill it, Moran.

I'm not thirsty.

You must drink!


Because you need to get your minerals and fluid levels back up. You've lost a lot of blood.

Why? What's the point?

Oh for... Fine! If you want to waste away in sadness like some emo kid, be my guest!

No but seriously. What am I doing. I'm shooting people for money. I go out and shag people, then never see them again. I don't have friends. I won't ever have friends. I won't ever have love. I can't even have a fucking dog. What is the point of my life? Leave a legacy as the best shot in London in the early noughties?




... I don't know.


Chapter Text

When routine bites hard
And ambitions are low
And resentment rides high
But emotions won't grow
And we're changing our ways
Taking different roads

Then love, love will tear us apart again
Love, love will tear us apart again



A few hours later, I'm at the club... sipping a rum and coke at the bar, and watching the crowd.

Was it really only last night that I was here??

God... feels like I've lived a lifetime and died since then...


And now I'm coming back to life, stronger than before. Vampire Moriarty 2.0.

No longer subject to any unexpected residual humanity...

or fucking *Richard*.

I just need some new fresh blood...


Flouncy goth bitch has entered the arena. She scans the club with an unbelievably arrogant look on her face.

Oh, honey... you are not the Queen Bitch you think you are...

*I'm* here now... So you bow to *me*.

Richard... you're up.

I take my glass to where she's standing, at the opposite end of the bar.

I lightly tap her shoulder, and she turns around with an expectant fake smile.

When I smile back at her hesitantly, she looks perplexed and haughty.

"H-hi," I say shyly. "I'm sorry to disturb. I just wanted to apologize again for yesterday.."

"Yesterday?" she asks, confused.

"Y-yeah, I spilled -"

"Oh!" Her eyes widen and then narrow. "*Oh*! You're the halfwit who spilled a drink on me! I was fucking *sticky* the entire night! And you cost me hooking up with the *hottest guy ever*!" She looks furious.

OK... not just a bad night. Girl is a class-A bitch.


"R-right, I'm the halfwit..." I say apologetically. "I'm truly sorry. I'd be happy to buy you a drink as an apology..."

She looks like she's going to snap at me, then I flash her a seductive smile. She regards me curiously.

"Well. You do owe me one..." she sniffs, then smiles haughtily. "G and T."

I wave the bartender over. "Two G and T's, please," I say, then turn back to her.

"My name's Richard... You're so very beautiful, I'm sure he must be kicking himself for letting you go..."

I grind my teeth together. Ugh. *Why are you bringing him into this?*

Two glasses are pushed towards us and I slide money across the bar.

"I'm sure he is!" she laughs dismissively, and swipes the glass up. She sips, and looks at me with a flirtatious smile.

"You know, I didn't really notice you last night... but you're *very* cute. My name is Corinne."

"Corinne," I repeat, as though tasting it. "Beautiful name for a beautiful girl..."

She laughs and tosses her hair.

Beautiful simpleton. Beautiful arsehole. Beautiful soon-to-be-dinner.

"I'm glad I came back..." I purr, and she tosses her hair. Again.

This is going to be *fun*...



For want of a better thing to do, I go back to bed.

I'm tired, but I can't sleep. I pick up the book on my nightstand, but it's a horror story collection, and I throw it against the wall.

I drink some more whisky. It doesn't help. Some more. Still no result, and now my cheeks are wet. I don't remember starting to cry.

What the fuck is wrong with me!?

More whisky dulls the edges a bit. I fall into an uneasy sleep.



Corinne proceeds to complain, rant, and flirt her way through several drinks. What did you ever see in her, idiot??

Maybe she’s being more forthcoming because Richard is so shy and sweet... don’t know. Don’t care.

All that matters is, after a few drinks, she’s heading out of the club as *my* prey...

When Richard invites her somewhere quiet so they can ‘talk’, she looks triumphant. She squeals at a group of girls that passes by, and hugs and kisses them. She whispers, giggles and leaves, tossing her hair.

Corinne, darling... I swear if you toss that dry, over-processed hair more time, I’m going to tear your head off. And toss it for you.

I lead Corinne down an alley, where I tell her my motorcycle is parked. Richard had told her his flat was in a very posh area, and she had seemed quite smug about being invited there.

Corinne makes it as far as the bins, before I cut off her prattle by sinking my fangs into her throat. I don’t even bother with the pretence of kissing her neck first. She doesn’t deserve Richard’s kiss. Not after...

*Not* another word...

I toss her body behind a recycling bin, and send a quick text to the body disposal team.

I head back to the flat, bone-weary... oh god, why do I keep ending up here???

Tomorrow, I’ll return to the penthouse...




When I wake, it's mid-morning. I need a lot of sleep to recover, so that's good, I guess.

I manage to get out of bed without too much dizziness, make a coffee, pour an orange juice, stare at food. I have to make food; I have to regain my strength, but - it just reminds me of you cooking me breakfast.

Oh for fuck's sake Moran - are you going to let your pining over your undead lover keep you from eating?

No. I'm just - not that hungry. Also, he wasn't my lover. Just for one night.

I fry some eggs, throw them on toast, add lots of salt, chew the food listlessly. I stare out the window, but the rain and grey sky are a bit too metaphorical for my liking. I drink some more dehydration salts, take another iron tablet.

I have no idea how to fill my day.



I pace in the flat... Goth bitch was supposed to make me feel renewed. I just feel restless...

I eye my laptop... I haven't been that directly involved in business since I turned. But maybe it would give me something to focus on. I spend the rest of the night poring through data, sending terse messages.

I used to find this interesting...?

By the time morning comes, my fatigue feels like a blessing. I used to find sleep so boring... Now I'd give anything to not be conscious... I once again crawl under the blankets, and fall into heavy dreamless sleep.



I can't do much - am still weak, though better than yesterday. I try not to think of you. Seem to be failing.

What the fuck Moran. You don't let others affect you like this.

Should I contact him?

No. You don't even know how.

I could go to the apartment... he said he had it for a week... he might still be there...

You can't. You know you can't.

I know...

I look through the medicine cabinet, find some sleeping pills. I need to recover, right. Best to get back to sleep then.

Also, when I sleep I don't feel...

I swallow one with a sip of whisky. Blessed blackness takes me quickly.


I wake up with a bit of a headache, but not too bad. It's getting dark again - well, rest is good for anaemia.

I sling my legs over the edge of the bed, sit up. Sigh. What do I do? Eat food again, I guess. Drink more fluids. Text the prospective client to see if he still wants to meet up.

Oh fuck yeah, text - I haven't looked at my phone at all.

I fish it out of my pocket - dead. I fumble for the charger cable and plug it in, wait for it to come back to life.

This is ridiculous. He doesn't have your phone number.

I wasn't thinking about him. I was thinking about the client.


One text message. I open it - my mouth drops open.

That's not the client - it's Demmings.

Fucking hell. Haven't spoken with him in - three years? Since I was - since I left the army.

I click the text.

hey moran. hope youre ok and you still have this no. im in london for a few weeks. fancy meeting up for a pint? demmings


We were so close - never in that way, but he - he got me; he was older than I am, but never took me to task over my recklessness or stupidity - at least never in a nasty way. He understood.

Oh fucking hell I'm crying again - Moran, you fucking moron...

Suddenly I want nothing more than to hear a sympathetic voice. To have a chat with the closest thing I've ever had to a friend. Talk about old days, Afghanistan, Stiles and Hoyle - god, I need a distraction -

I text him back.

Great to hear from you! I'm in London but bit worse for wear, so pub not a great idea. Fancy coming over to mine? BYOB. 12 Hindrey Street, Hackney. Moran

As I'm having a piss I hear the text alert. It makes my heart lift in a pleasant way.

so glad to hear from you. sister driving me crazy. sick friend perfect excuse. see you around eight? need me to pick anything up?

Suddenly I want food again. See, it was just the blood loss...

Fish and chips? And some Guinness for me. You're a hero.

Guinness is good after you've lost blood, right?



I wake up panicking...

How is he?? Why didn't I check in on him?? Did he replenish his fluids after he drank whisky, the fuckwit?



Not my problem. Won't be a problem for *you* for much longer, either...

Can't we just - Richard starts.


But I *miss* -


I look at the clock. Jesus, it's after 7... I never sleep this much.

I pad to the bathroom, take another shower. I wash blood flecks, compliments of Corinne, from my skin, stare at the pink water circling the drain. When have I ever gone to sleep with remnants of prey on me??

So where shall I go tonight? Not the same club... too dangerous. It was reckless of me to show up two nights in a row. Although... technically, there was no body two nights ago...

the body is still to come.

I'll go somewhere else for dinner tonight...

And on the way, should I check in on my former lover?

*Lover*...?? HAH. As if he was ever anything other than prey!

I feel a wave of sadness swamp me, and I cover it up with cold fury.

I get dressed, and head out to a popular club. I size up the crowd - most appear to be pissed to the gills. I'll have some takeaway within 15 minutes...



Demmings hasn't changed a bit. OK he has a few more wrinkles, but his smile, his voice, are exactly the same, and are such a balm on my soul...

We hug as he shows up, his arms full of bags. It's weird to see him in civvies. He says I look like shit. He's probably right.

I show him to the kitchen, put the beers in the fridge, lay out plates for our fish and chips. I find that the smell actually makes me hungry, and I eat every bite. Sticking with water for now, while Demmings drinks his beer - I explain I lost quite a bit of blood and am recovering. Have a plaster on the bite. He doesn't ask.

After dinner we head to the living room, where I pour a whisky to go with Tom's lager, and a Guinness for myself. Ah... that tastes good.

We talk about the army, the old days - he can't tell me what he's up to now, nor can I tell him what I'm up to, but it doesn't matter - there is plenty of fuel for reminiscence. At one point he's got me crying with laughter recalling an anecdote that I'd forgotten about involving Stiles, commander Davis, and a camel. The way he tells it is just epic. He's always been the storyteller of the group.

After a few beers (I'm pacing myself, honestly), we get to more emotional territory. Tom's fiancé has left him - that explains why he was staying with his sister. It's always a risk for SAS personnel, as you're away for months on end and can't always tell the home front where you are or even keep in touch - but Tom and Diane always seemed rock solid despite that. It had come as a tremendous shock to him - he'd had no idea that anything was amiss until he got a letter telling him that she'd moved in with a teacher she'd met at tennis. He's still heartbroken, but throws himself into his work - his few weeks off are killing him though.

"And you?" he asks. "Still shagging everything with a pulse?"


I should have expected the question.


But you don't have a pulse.


I do have a good poker face, honestly, I do, but I've had a few beers and I'm anaemic, and he's my friend, and I am - fuck it, I've not been myself...


That familiar, trusted voice...

"What's happened?"



I walk away with a man. Not a gay man who went out with straight friends. Not a bi man who fancies some cock tonight. A seemingly straight dude - who strikes up a drunk, somewhat mocking conversation at the bar, and then propositions me before I even decide what approach to take with him. He informs me he's straight as a ruler, but he's been blown before. And he's up for it tonight, he informs me in the most magnanimous way possible.

Lucky me! Only guess who will not be receiving an epic blow job tonight?

Not the man who's eager to follow me into a back alley...

Not the man who's bitten without haste, and unceremoniously thrown behind bins.

And not me either... not tonight, maybe never.



"I kind of... met someone..." I mumble.

"Not a good someone?" Tom asks, sympathetically.

"Such a good someone..." I say, and tears start to flow.

Oh fucking typical. What have you done to me?! It's not like Tom has never seen me cry... but not over a guy. And he didn't cry when he was talking about Diane... come on Moran, pull yourself together, for fuck's sake!

I manage to stem the flow of tears, take another big gulp of beer.

"I really like him... but I can't, Tom..."

"Why not?" he asks.


Such a simple question.


And I start talking.


And I don't stop.


I tell him everything. Everything I've never told anyone.

How I fell in love at fourteen with my best friend David.

How we started dating.

How incredibly happy and in love I was, impossible to hide, not that I wanted to.

How my father got furious at his faggot son.

How my boyfriend was threatened to stay away from me, and tried to.

How I pursued him and convinced him to stay together. I was desperate, I needed him, and I used all the charm, wile, and force of will I had to get him back.

How he gave in, because he loved me too.

How vigilant I was, for weeks, making sure that he was safe.

How happy we were when nothing else happened and we felt safe walking through town hand in hand. I never was prouder.

How one day his body was found beaten up and drowned. He was fifteen. So was I.

How the guys who did it were arrested, did a few years. Never were linked to my father.

How it was my fault. I persuaded him. He wanted to keep away from me, but I didn't let him.

How I was infernal. Desperate. Suicidal. Eventually hospitalized.

How I swore an oath then, that I'd never love again. Because my love kills.

How I never was tempted to break that oath. And am not tempted now. Honestly. I'm just not feeling myself, Tom... It must be the blood loss...



I send another text to the body retrieval team as I walk away, sighing.

When did killing people get so *dull*?? It was supposed to perk me up... even the taste of blood is -

OK, no - it's *always* good.

But it's not like...


I think back to the taste of your blood... first those tiny red beads from the scratches I left on you. Then... directly from your neck. The crimson waves of you... the overlapping notes of violence... fury... desire... laughter... love.

It was love I tasted... and I chose to ignore it.

I couldn't go there... And I still can't!

But I also can't *let it go*...

I see a discarded beer bottle on the street, and I throw it against a car.

The smash of glass is satisfying.

*Violence*, I think. *Fury*.

I head to a rougher area.

Darkness swallows me.




I look up. Demmings. Tom.

Why am I on the floor? Why am I crying? Oh fuck...


"Sebastian. Here. Drink this."

A bottle. Water. I drink from it, quickly, cough, drink more.

Take my Guinness, drink that too.

Take a fag, light it with trembling hands.

"I never... I never told that story... to anyone. I'm sorry, Jim... Tom. Sorry, Tom."

"Is his name Jim?"

"It... doesn't matter. I'm so sorry I'm here being all weepy on you, when really you should be the one crying -"

"Oh, I've done my share of crying. Don't you worry. I cried and screamed and beat the hell out of the punch bags in the gym. You cry all you want to."

Somehow, that comment calms me down. I drink some more water, smoke my cigarette, have another sip of my beer. Get back up on the sofa. Blow my nose on a piece of kitchen roll that Tom's fetched. Take a deep breath.

"So. Yeah. Sorry. That was a bit - more than I planned to share. But, there you go. So - yeah. There is a Jim, and he's affecting me worse than I thought. But I'll get over it. We'll both get over it." I raise my beer at him.



I lean against a building, down the street from a pub. All I'm doing is smoking, but it doesn't take too long to attract attention. I am me, after all... I can hide in plain sight or shine like I'm under a spotlight.

"You in the right neck of the woods, mate?" a voice calls out to me. Another voice cackles.

"Dja get lost on the way to Vauxhall?" yet another voice shouts.

"Maybe he's on the way home *from* Vauxhall..." the first voice calls back.

"Oh verrreh nice.. ya get lucky? Take it up the bum in an alley?" the second voice jeers to much laughter and obscene noises.

"Could be *he's* the one who gave it to a special someone! Equal opportunities and all..." the third voice is much closer.

I continue to smoke as if I don't hear them.

"Naaah. You can tell... There's them that bang, and them that get banged. And this here, gents, is the latter..."

A face pops into view. A man in his thirties with unkempt hair and a mean little smile.

"Am I right, sweetheart? Are you the one that gets banged?" he coos.




I don’t like that tone. That’s his ‘I’m going to be very honest with you and you’re not going to like it’ tone. I look away.

“Sebastian, you were fifteen.”

See? There we go. He’s being honest, and I don’t like it.

“I was in love when I was fifteen. And she was my world. I would have happily died for her. I promised her the stars and the moon. We were going to get married, have children, live happily ever after.

And you know what happened? We didn’t. We turned sixteen, she got different interests than I did, we drifted apart. She dumped me, but I wasn’t too sad about it.

What I’m saying is – first loves are overwhelming, Romeo and Juliet style, but unlike in Romeo and Juliet, they are usually allowed to run their natural course, and dwindle. Yours didn’t have that – so it always remained massive. But – you can’t forsake your entire life because of what happened to you as a child.”

My insides are a massive ball of raging lava.

How dare you, Tom, how dare you compare David and me to you and some girl. Our love would never have dwindled. Or - maybe it would! But we’ll never find out, will we? Because David is dead and it’s my fault!

He doesn’t stop talking. Why doesn’t he stop talking?

“First of all – you didn’t even make a mistake. You fought for what you thought was right. Isn’t that the whole point? If our lives have any meaning at all, isn’t it to fight for what’s right? To leave a better world behind us?”

I should have known though. I should have known my father was a vicious bastard who would never let this lie. He was livid – his only son and heir, a poofter. I should have realized he was plotting something.

“Second – you can’t make a vow for the rest of your life when you’re fifteen. You’re a minor.”

What does legal age have to do with things… I’ve lived with this up to now, I’m not going to let it slide for a pair of pretty brown eyes.

“Third – if David really loved you, would he have wanted you to be miserable for the rest of your life?”

If David really loved me?! Of course he loved me! I was his world, and he was mine! He would have…

Would have…



His name for me. No one else ever called me that. Which is a good thing – if anyone would have, I would have gone berserk.

‘Be kind to yourself, Bass.’

He’d always say that. He was always on about how I was too hard on myself. He was so sweet… so good… so kind…

… he wanted me to be happy.

And that’s what killed him.

Yes. It is what killed him. And it’s my fault…

‘Bass. Stop it.’


What the fuck - first I meet an undead vampire, now I’m hearing dead people? Have I permanently moved into the Twilight Zone?

‘Bass. You’re sullying my memory.’

I know!!! I know, and I’m trying not to! I’ll forget him, don’t worry…

‘No! That’s the opposite of what I meant! You are making yourself unhappy in my name?! What the fuck Bass?! Didn’t I always try to make you happy?’

… yes. You did.

You were always trying to make me ‘real happy’ as you called it, as opposed to ‘fake happy’; my smiles and party spirits that you effortlessly saw through if I didn’t feel them...

‘So how dare you say that it’s because of me that you’ll be unhappy for the rest of your life?!’

But you’re dead… you didn’t get a rest of your life. Because of me

‘Bass, you’re thirty-two. You have spent more time mourning me than I’d ever been alive. If you would have killed me yourself your sentence would be over by now.’

What’s the expiry date on sins?

“I vowed, though…”

‘You were confused and upset and so terribly guilty… You made a vow to me, and I wanted to release you from that vow immediately, but you wouldn’t listen! And now I’ve had to spend seventeen years looking at the boy I loved be unhappy…

Listen – if the roles had been reversed, and I’d got you killed by some stupidity – would you have wanted me to spend the rest of my life unhappy?’

No!!! No of course not…


‘So when will you start living again, Sebastian? Or if you don’t, just kill yourself and be done with it. But stop this miserable meandering.’

… See, this is how I know you’re not really David. You’re the manifestation of him in my mind, created of my memories and impressions of him.

‘Whatever. All that’s left of me are memories, so it’s the realest thing you’re going to find to talk to. And I’ve been waiting to say this to you for a very long time. So please, are you going to listen!?

Oh god David…

I will always love you…

‘I know Bass. And you couldn’t show it better than by making the man I love happy.

Go to your Jim. And tell him that I said that if he hurts a hair on your pretty head, I’ll haunt him for the rest of his unlife. And please, please… try to be happy.

For me.’



"Am I the one who gets banged?" I repeat slowly, then burst out laughing. "Sorry, I shouldn't - Look, it was a valiant effort, but it would never work..." I say, sounding amused.


"I mean, you're never going to score with a pickup line like that. I'd go with something *slightly* less aggressive, or you'll scare off some nice blokes. Maybe try 'D'you want to go look at the stars, mate?’ while throwing him a significant look. Now - show me your significant look." I smile at him encouragingly.

His mouth twists and he looks at me, outraged.

I stare back, perplexed. "Really?? That was *terrible*... Try again."

His friends start to laugh, and his face grows hard.

"Fucking - faggot - cocksucker!" he sputters.

"Noooo! Now you're getting *worse*!" I say scathingly. "You are truly awful at this..."

He lets out a roar, and goes to punch me with a meaty fist. I stop it with my hand, and smile at him fiercely.

It doesn't take long...

There are only three, so I make quick work of them. One has a lucky moment and smashes a bottle against my head before punching me in the eye. We don't heal quite as quickly as in films and we do feel pain... it just doesn't stop us. He doesn't expect me to take the broken bottle from him and shove it into his throat.

I watch disgruntled as all that lovely blood starts spilling out onto the pavement.

"Now, that's just *wasteful*!" I snap and fly towards his neck. I latch on and drink just for a moment, before turning and grabbing the two gibbering men who were trying to run away.

"Well I can hardly let you go after seeing *that*," I say cheerfully and drag them into an alley. Then I return to drag the now-dead man to throw on top of his cronies.

Moments later, I'm sending yet another text. Quite the body count tonight! *Now* I'm starting to feel charged up...

I don't bother calling a car. I'm dropping by on a certain soldier to spy... and see if my killing mood continues.

I shove my hands in my pockets, and stalk towards his flat.



I’m a weeping mess on the floor.

Tom solicitously provides fresh water and kitchen roll until I’ve calmed down a bit.

“I am so sorry for this mess, Tom… But you are right. I – I needed to talk to someone, to hear it, to realize it – but you are right.

David – David loved me so much – the worst thing I could have done was make myself miserable in his name…”

I take a deep gulp from my beer.


“So…” Tom asks, “Jim?”



It’s fucking Sunday.

You had the apartment for a week.

Does that mean that this is the last night?

The apartment is the only lead I have on you –

I know nothing else –

I won’t ever be able to find you –

I suddenly start to panic.

What was I thinking?


“David – I’ll always love you – but I must…” I whisper as I get up.

Tom helps me up, sets me on the arm of the sofa.

“Where does he live?” he asks?

I give the address. He calls a cab.


‘Well done, Bass..’



The walk makes me feel agitated. Last night I was angry, but still concerned about your health.

Tonight... I can't help but think of our last few moments together... your final words...

On the heels of telling me you may have fallen in *love*: "I can't - I can't...

I'm sorry, I have to go..."

I wince at the pain that cuts through me.

After I cling to you and stare at you pleadingly: "I need to go - please, Richard - Jim... Can you - get my clothes? Call a cab? Please..."

I growl softly, and my pace increases.

"Just - please..."

"Just - please..."

"Just - please..."

I let out a strangled sob, and I hear sniggering in the darkness.

I turn and hiss at the sneering teenager walking past me and he stumbles before cursing and tearing off down the street.

I turn to watch, my fangs elongating... Running in terror just makes me want to kill you, precious...

*God*, I want to suddenly appear in front of him with a smile... that never gets old.

I consider for a moment, then let him go. I've had more than enough blood tonight, and I have to keep an eye on my murderous tendencies... mustn't alarm the authorities *too* much... they tend to fuss more when the smaller humans get killed.

I turn a corner, and your building comes into view. A shock moves through me, and I falter.

What will I find? What will I do?

Only one way to find out... I stare at the building for a moment, and storm towards it.



The cab takes for-fucking-ever. Blessed Tom ordered his own cab, and made me promise to call him with the result. I think he wants to make sure I have someone to talk to if it goes pear-shaped - bless him; he's a great friend. The oldest of our group, he was the big brother figure for all of us, I think... someone who could drink you under the table and kick your arse, but who'd go out of his way to help you out and would take you aside for a quiet man-to-man when you needed to hear something, whether you wanted to hear it or not.


Finally we're in Camden.

We pass the NDRGRND - my throat constricts.

The building.

I don't know which apartment is yours. I can't check if there's a light on. Do you even need light?

What if you're out hunting?

I'll wait until you come back... and hope you don't have a victim with you...

What if you've moved out altogether?

You said you could find me... but why would you? You were so pissed off when I left... rightfully so... you'd opened yourself up to me completely, and I just cast you aside...

Why do I always destroy anything good in my life?

I wait until no one is around, wedge a card into the lock, give it a strong yank. It opens.

The lift.

Ana + Raoul 4eva.

The thirteenth floor.

Dirty carpet. Dull throbs of bass. Smell of weed.

It's all exactly the same. Is that a good omen, or a bad?

The door.

I ring the bell.



I scale the building... I go much quicker this time. It's nighttime, I'm charged up with fresh blood and recent murders, and I'm fuelled by anger - *not* heartbreak.

But when I get to your window, I'm surprised to see it's dark. Are you sleeping already? It could be you're still tired from *drinking* while recovering from *blood loss*. I stare at the locked window for a long moment, consider breaking the glass. But I don't need to do that, as satisfying as it would be. I simply close my eyes, and breathe in. I call to your blood, hone in on your blood. And it's as though a glowing crimson thread appears leading from my heart to you. And it is *not* leading inside.

I stare at the window for a moment longer.

You're not sleeping... you're *outside*...

Could be you're getting something to eat... but it's a *bit* late for that.

Are you... *on the prowl*??

My mouth hardens.

I descend and reach the ground.

I reconnect with the crimson thread...

and I begin to run.



I wait.

All my senses are focussed on the world behind this door. Do I hear movement? Would whoever is playing that godawful music fucking turn it down?! I can't hear anything...

I move my eye to the peephole. I see no light, no movement, nothing.

I put my ear against the door. The throb of that cursed house music. Nothing else.

Jim - please...

I ring the bell again. I can hear it. I heard it the first time. It works.


I lean my forehead against the door.

Now what, Jim? Where are you? Out to feed? Or - have you left entirely? When you said a week, when did that week start? What do I do?

I know the answer to that already.

I sit down, my back to the door.

I wait.



Where. The Fuck. Did. You. Go.

My eyes narrow... I’m moving away from clubs. Heading to a residential area.

Are you already in someone’s flat?!

Well, then... darling. The person you’re fucking can join you in death.

*How sweet*.

The thought flashes through my mind of what it will be like to find you with someone else... in the throes of passion... or even after... do you say the same things to your other partners that you said to Richard?

If it could be anyone (Blank)... it would be you.

The pain that rises inside is white-hot and sears through me.

No, you fucker... you don’t get to say that to me and *leave*.

You don’t get to make me *feel* that unspeakable thing that I’ll *never feel again*...

Fury fills me like a red cloud, and I lope like a wolf after the shimmering ruby thread that binds you to me. I told you...

I *warned* you...

If I was less furious, maybe I would stop to think about why it was leading me to my building.

Instead I just think, ‘Sebastian, darling... this is going to *hurt*’.

I shove through the front door, and I don’t even stop to find my fob. I tear the inner door from the hinges, throw it aside and stalk up the stairs.

*Sebastian*, I think. *Sebastian*...

I burst into the hallway, and see a figure at the door.

Sitting on the floor.



Red, puffy eyes.


No mercy, Jim...

No mercy.

Inside me, I hear Richard shouting at me, stop, for fuck’s sake, *STOP!!*

Slowly I move down the hall towards you.



I can wait.

That's one thing you learn as a soldier - you get really fucking good at waiting. Not scrolling on your phone waiting. Not chatting with your buddy waiting. Sitting stock still for hours in an uncomfortable position in the dark whilst remaining fully ready to spring into action any moment waiting. Sitting on a dirty carpet against a grubby door is easy.

Except it isn't. I can't get into the quiet mindset. Every movement I think I hear I glance hopefully down the corridor, but nothing. Once or twice I think I hear movement in the flat, but I'm imagining it. A guy leaves one of the other apartments, but he doesn't look at me as he staggers down to the lift.

I sit. And wait.

I will wait until dawn.

And then?

Well, and then...

I'll think about that when I get to dawn.


Finally, the door to the stairwell opens.


You're coming towards me, slowly, like you're not sure what to make of this. I don't blame you - I was a jerk.

Your eyes are black. Odd, part of me thinks - you'd expect such light-sensitive eyes to have small pupils under this strip lighting -

and then my survival instinct kicks in the doors in my brain.

I'm a killer.

I recognize when someone is out to kill.

You're not pleased to see me. And you're not in the mood to let me explain.

I get up, locking eyes with you.


And I start to cry.



Whatever I was expecting, it was *not this*...

The sight of your tears hits me a like a brick wall, and I stop moving.

I stand in the hallway, staring at you.

Your height. Your muscular form. Your blue eyes, overflowing with tears.

*You came*...

What? No. Kill him, I snap at myself. I step towards you.


My chin trembles. A mad throbbing begins in my chest and bursts open, and before I know it, I’ve choked back a sob and I run the rest of the way and fling myself at you.

You’re still weak, and we end up falling in a heap on the floor.

I stare at you in shock, gazing into your sorrowful blue eyes.

“Don’t be sad..” I whisper. “Please don’t be sad...”

I kiss you, and tears begin to stream down my face.



My eyes are blurry, god damn it, I can't see - and then you're running towards me, ready for the pounce - there's no way I can defend myself, you're too strong, too fast, and I'm still weak -

and then we're in a tangle on the floor and you are looking at me and -

don't be sad!?

You kiss me - kiss me - I swear a moment ago you were going to kill me - what!?

Who cares –


My arms come up, I hold you, crying even harder now, pulling you close, kissing you, kissing you - oh god - I'm kissing you, you're back, you're here in my arms, and I'm never never never going to let you go...

"Don't be sad, Sebby, don't be sad..."

"I'm not -" I choke-laugh-sob. "I'm not - I'm so happy... I'm so sorry... I'm so glad I found you - I thought I'd lost you... I'm so sorry, Jim..."



My lips press against yours before I return to crying.

“No. *I’m* sorry, I thought you were - out on the prowl, and I lost it,” I sniffle. “I *lost it*, Sebastian. I was going to -“ I let out a sob. “I’m sorry I’m such a monster! I’ve never felt this way before, and it hurt - it hurt! And then I couldn’t control it...” I whisper, clinging to you. “I don’t know how - to do this... but I can’t not be with you,” I say softly into your hair. “I can’t...”



"Me neither..." I sob, touching your hair, your soft, silky hair, so smooth - wait - is that blood? Yes, of course it's blood - it doesn't matter - how often have I come home spattered in blood -

"I am so sorry I left, I just needed - I was confused - I needed time to think, I'm so sorry I hurt you -

And I have thought, and I just want to be with you - I am sorry I doubted that - you are so sweet, so lovely, so beautiful, so fascinating... I am sorry I couldn't say it, but I am - I am in love with you, Jim, I am –

I wouldn't allow myself to, but I am."



“Of course you needed time, I was totally unreasonable,” I sniffle against your neck. “Your bad luck to fall in - “ I stop and pull back, staring at you in utter shock. “Did you say -“

I fall back against the door, bumping my head. I wince.

“Did you - “ My voice gives out, and my hands move around the back of your neck. “Even after - everything I *did*?” I kiss you fiercely, and hold your face in my hands..

“*Sebastian*... I’m in love with you too. I have been from the beginning..” I whisper, and gaze at you for just a moment before my lips seek yours out again and kiss you with abandon.



Wait wait - as you pull back, I see - a black eye, and - a cut? so it was your blood!?

"Jim -" I reach out my hand. "What happened? Who did that!?"

A black violent rage rises up inside me. Whoever did that is dead.

Wait - they probably are dead.

But - I never considered that you might be vulnerable. Going out there all the time and killing people - you might actually get hurt.



One moment I'm declaring that I'm in love with you, and kissing you... and the next, your face is growing very dark and you're demanding to know who hurt me.

Oh. My.

Here's a side to you I haven't seen.

Mmmm. *Sebastian*...

I want to purr and rub against you. But you're looking more furious by the moment.

"Oh, *that*... nothing to worry about," I assure you, wiping my eyes. "That was courtesy of a trio of terribly homophobic individuals who no longer have anything to say - about anything. But to be fair, I did go out looking for a spot of violence. It was... satisfying," I sigh, sniffling.

I study your inscrutable expression. "What's wrong? Are you - upset?"



Am I -

"You got hurt! You went looking for violence, ok I get that, and it was satisfying, I get that too - but you got hurt. Let's go inside - do you have a first aid kit? We must clean that wound - can you get infected? And put some ice on that black eye - we don't want it to swell shut," I fuss.

I see you looking at me in a funny way.




You are *so sweet*... now I want to roll onto my back and let you pet me...

I slide a hand down your muscular arm.

“Don’t concern yourself, darling. I’m not susceptible to infections. Which I would have liked to have told you when the condoms made an appearance, but -“ I smile cheekily. “It wasn’t time for secrets yet.”

You’re still looking at me with deep concern and I nuzzle your cheek. “If it would make you feel better, you’re welcome to treat my wounds. There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom. I don’t have cinematic vampire healing abilities, but... they’ll be mostly better by tomorrow. It’s sweet of you to worry...” I breathe against your ear. “No one has worried about me for a very long time...”



“It’s interesting... you said you saw a protectiveness in me. I can’t say I’m at all protective, normally... but there is something about you. Especially when you were being Richard... I so wanted to keep him safe - keep you safe. When that bint had a go at you, I just wanted to slap her...”



I beam at you. "I would have enjoyed that... and *Richard*, well! He would have been all aflutter, but secretly pleased."

Maybe I'll just wait a bit before I tell you I threw her body behind bins in the alley. Wanting to slap someone is not the same as being OK with them being drained dry... I congratulate myself for my understanding of the human psyche, and return to nuzzling you.

"You do have a dark knight in shining armour energy to you... I saw it right away. And wanted you to be mine..."



“Your dark knight in shining armour? Mmmm, why not, my dark prince... “ I snuggle.

“Should we maybe go inside? I know you say you’re not susceptible to infection, but your sofa is infinitely more comfortable than this filthy carpet.”

You nod, get up, open the door. We have hardly entered before you’re all over me again, and fuck, yes, Jim...

“I’m all yours... but please let me take care of that cut first, it looks dirty...”



But - I need more of your lips, more of your *everything*...

My head falls back dramatically. "Alright, darling..." I sigh. "You're awfully sweet to monsters...”

I pull you back towards the bathroom, eyeing you. “But just make sure you save your sweetness for *one* monster in particular...”

I kiss you as we walk. “Because, Sebastian... I get very *jealous* - more than you can possibly imagine...” I whisper.



Those words send shivers down my spine, but in a good way. I know it’s probably not a good idea to have a vampire get all possessive and jealous - I mean, I’m pretty sure that’s not a great trait for any boyfriend, but -


... but for one who’s able to tear your head off in an instant it is especially contra-indicated.

... oh god.

... you’re finding that hot, aren’t you?

A possessive, jealous, killer predator who can kill you in a second, needs blood to live, and finds yours particularly tasty.

... and you find it fascinating and sexy.

Fucking danger junkie...

“I’m yours, my dark prince...” I whisper. Your eyes so dark again...

I switch on the bathroom light, open the medicine cabinet, take out the first aid kit, open it. All still brand-new in its packaging. I open the disinfectant, take a towel, wet it, and wash out your wound before I disinfect it. It does not look bad now I’ve cleaned the dirt and blood off.



*Dark prince*... oh, darling...

Where do you *come* from? I don’t mean your arrogant fuckwit of a father... How did you become *Sebastian*?

Your army training seems to take over, and you’re all business as you take care of my wound. Even as I stare at you in hungry fascination.

*God*, you’re beautiful...

And to think I came this close to -

Painful twinges sear through me. Guilt?? Don’t like it.

I *can’t* dwell on what I ‘almost’, I’m really not cut out for such feelings...

I just need to not let it happen again... warnings about jealousy aside.

Seeing you dead would destroy me - I didn’t think of *that* when I was hunting you.

You finish up treating my wound, wash your hands, and put away the first aid kit.

I take your hands and kiss them. And I look at you sorrowfully.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve behaved, Sebastian. Before I became a monster, I was already monstrous... so I don’t really have any kind of navigation system for treating someone well...” A flash of pain moves through me. Well. One person.

“But... when you were out of it, I told you that you’re important... and I meant it. You are... I can’t explain *why* I would feel this way after such a short time, but I *do*... Sebastian...” I reach up and caress your hair. “Are you done taking care of me?” I ask softly. “Because I can think of somewhere far more comfortable that I’d rather be...”



“Jim - what? What do you mean, how you behaved? Monstrous?! You did nothing wrong... I’m the one who said I had to leave, hurting you... I’m so sorry..."

"But I was a dick about it - my jealousy... It was perfectly natural that you wanted to have some space - I'm so sorry..."

We're both fussing and apologizing as we're making our way to the bedroom. You make a half-hearted token effort of mentioning the word 'drink' and pointing in the direction of the kitchen, but the only thing I want in my mouth is right here.

We fall onto the bed, fumbling with clothes - each other's, our own - whispering things like 'so sorry', 'missed you', 'so hot', 'prince' and 'knight', and then finally we are naked, in each other's arms, again, finally - it seems so long, so long ago, and so missed...



"Was it only two nights ago we were here?" I murmur in between kisses. "It felt like an eternity without you..."

I'm lying against you, naked, and it feels so right... our bodies sliding against each other, my skin tingling... how do you do that? How do you make me feel more alive now than I did when I was human?

I look down at your face, feeling flushed. "God... Sebastian... How does this happen after one night?? This *connection* between us... " I whisper, and kiss your palm.



“I have no idea...” I admit. “I’ve never... no, I’ve never felt like this so suddenly, so intensely - this is not normal, is it?! It’s not your weird charm or intoxicating effect or something? But - then you shouldn’t feel it... I really have no idea, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you, I had no idea what to do with myself, I was completely out of it; what did you do to me, you monster... you gorgeous dark prince...

oh god I can’t believe I’m back here... I was so afraid I’d not see you again... that you were angry and wouldn’t look me up; and I didn’t know how to find you -“

We kiss, we grope, we moan, we pull each other close.

This is the only thing that’s ever mattered in my adult life, I’ve never been so entranced by anything, not sex, not fighting, even if the fighting was on a knife’s edge - I thought that those were the moments when you feel truly alive, when the world shows its true colours, but even those times of intensity pale compared to your presence. You taste so sweet, your fingers make trails of fire on my skin, your voice makes gooseflesh rise up and sends shivers all through my spine to my groin.

If other vampires are *anything* like you, you are a superior life form indeed... but I have a suspicion that it’s not the vampirism, that it’s you... Sure, your strength and lethality are hot, but you are so much more...

Though I wouldn’t know how to describe it.

… you just set all my senses on fire…





"Whatever I did to you, you did right back to me..."


"You fiend, making me *feel*..."


"My sexy dark knight..."


"I was angry... *furious*! I don't handle emotions well, darling..."


"I wanted to hole up in my penthouse, and somehow I kept ending up back here!"


"I must have hoped you'd come back... and you *did*... you came back for me, Sebastian..."

I kiss you hungrily, and look down at you. I become very aware of our cocks pressed against each other, your deep breathing, the heat once again rising in my body...

"Oh god, Sebastian..." I whisper raggedly. "I *want you*."



Those words set me on fire with an almost audible whoosh.

You want me. You want me. I can hear the longing in your voice, can feel your desire in every movement you make, every place that you touch me causes sparks to jump.

How do I respond to this? 'I want you too?'

No, this isn't Richard... this is Jim...

I breathe, "I am yours... take me..."



"*Fuck, yes I will*..." I half-murmur, half-growl into your ear.

I sit up, straddling you and lean over to get the lube from the nightstand - and I remember that moment from *the First Time*, when I dropped the tube on the floor, and you playfully pressed your body against mine to not let me back up. You stare at me, and something flashes in your eye.

"Are you remembering... the first time? Technically I guess that was your first time with Richard..." I tease. "Then came the first time with Jim... but you still only knew me as a human... "

I stare down at you hungrily, grasping your shoulders. "And now... the first time with the real Jim... the vampire who has promised not to drain you. Do you trust me, Sebastian?"

I gaze at you intently, and lick my lips.

Chapter Text

This world has only one
Sweet moment set aside for us


Who wants to live forever?



Fuck, why is you being a dangerous bloodsucker so hot? Why is putting my life in the hands of a vicious killer who asks if I trust him while he's licking his lips sending the blood straight to my nether regions? The blood, Sebastian, which he said he really really liked the taste of, Sebastian. Just reminding you, Sebastian.

I am shaking - fuck trust, I need you.

"I think I do... because anyone has blood, but you'll never find a better shag..." I say, braver than I feel.



I lean down over you, laughing low in my throat. "Well, right - back - at you - darling... I don't doubt you could hook up with whomever you choose. But they could *never do what I can do*... and you already know that, don't you?" I tongue the base of your throat, then swipe up over your throat and under your jaw. Your head moves, and I purr at your moan. "Mmmm... I haven't forgotten that you told me I could have a little sip... but I'm going to wait until you're fully healed and strong again. And ohhhh, that will be a day you'll remember... I'll make it so good for you, Sebastian..." I whisper, and push your hands over your head.



Oh god, you're licking my throat, and I'm baring it to you, moving my head back to give you access; a moan rises up from the depths...

Enjoy your first time with a vampire, Sebastian...

Your promise that you will make it so good for me when you can have more of my blood makes me want to beg you to take my blood now, have it, it's yours - but I have some sense left in my severely blood-deprived head, and don't - just shiver as my hands are pushed over my head.

What is it about feeling helpless in your arms that makes me feel so fucking euphoric? This is not like games I've played with other people - I always knew that I was just letting them tie me down, that my arms stayed in place because I wanted them to, not because I was actually prevented from movement. You are the first partner who could actually physically restrain me if he wanted, and that is so fucking hot... I never knew physical power was such a strong aphrodisiac...

I look into your eyes, so dark, so beautiful, and I want to whimper...




Oh god, you're soooo into this, and the dazed look in your eyes is just making me more excited...

I move off you, quick like a snake - I push your legs up into a bent position, and move your thighs apart. Then I take the lube and apply it to your opening and my cock. I push my finger in, and then add another one.

"I take it you liked being tied up... and thrashed..." I say as I prepare you, and a smile crosses my face. "And I liked doing it to you - *very much*. But I don't want to wait for another moment to be inside you - " I withdraw my fingers, and position myself at your entrance. "Not - one - more - second -" I moan, pushing partway into you.

"But we'll have time, won't we, darling?" I pant, pulling back. I'm enjoying this breathing thing...

"Time to explore and test your limits..." I push forward again, deeper than before. "Your *real* limits that no one on this earth knows... how could they? But I'll know..." I lick my lips again, push in deeper. "*I'll know, Sebastian*..." I whisper-growl, and smile as you shiver.

I bury myself in you, as far as I can go, and I shiver, too. "Oh..." I moan. "You feel so good..."

I begin to move, my eyes half-closing. "And you're fucking *mine*..."



Oh fuck... so good... how can anything, anyone, feel so good!? Is it a vampire thing, or a you thing? It must be you... I'm convinced it's you... There's no evolutionary advantage to being an epic lover if you're a predator, is there? It's just for me... all for me... because I'm yours, yes, of course I am - you caught me, and did something more drastic than kill me - you made me yours. I don't know how you did it, but being away from you made me sick... is that what they call lovesick?

It's not some vampire thing, is it? To prevent your prey from getting away? The same reason that you can track me?

Fuck, so many things I don't know...

But not now... we can talk later...

If you survive this.

Yeah yeah, if I survive the dangerous predator having his fangs so near my neck... I should probably be more worried, as the last time we were in this position I nearly died.

... yeah. I definitely should be more worried. I'll think about that when I'm not busy feeling fucking awesome...

Because you are taking me, taking me like you somehow know I want to be taken, need to be taken - feeling your cock possessing me, hearing your moans of pleasure, seeing your eyes - there's definitely something non-human about your eyes - the way they catch the light? Is it like a cat's eyes, which are more photosensitive and which sometimes look so weirdly reflective? I could look at those eyes for ever, lose myself in the universe that is inside them...

Oh god fuck Jim, your moves are exquisite, so fucking good, I'm groaning, gasping –



As I lose myself in your body, your face, your sounds, I think back in a daze over the last 48 hours... after I brought home the hottest man I've *ever seen*... I half-drained him of his blood... got furious at him needing some time to deal with me being a vampire... and nearly killed him in a jealous fit, while he was actually sitting and waiting outside my door...

and he's so




God, Richard... I owe you an apology.

You were right - and I'm keeping him.

It doesn't make a lick of sense - and I don't fucking care.

I lean down and kiss you.

"Mmm... Sebastian..." I murmur. "So *fucking* good..."

I have to admit, there's something about you having been the hottest man in the club and wanting *me* that makes this whole thing even hotter... My narcissism increased a hundredfold as a vampire.

That's right, club tramps... he's *mine*...

The Queen Bitch has spoken.

The Queen Bitch has *claimed* him.

I moan, grasp the hands over your head tightly, and bury myself in you again and again.

"Fuck... *all* mine..."



You are a possessive little fucker, aren't you? Mine, mine, mine... Sure, my adorable killer vampire, I'll be yours... Because you're the hottest thing I've ever seen, and I've fucking fallen for you like the proverbial ton of bricks, and I believe you that you've not used any glamours or stuff on me - it's just you. Sweet, adorable Richard, smoking hot, commanding Jim - both in one incredibly hot package...

And fuck it, being possessed by you is the hottest thing ever. I could be coy about it, but if I am honest, I've been longing to meet someone who was stronger, more dangerous than I am all my life. While at the same time trying to make myself the strongest and most dangerous motherfucker out there. Yeah, it doesn't quite make sense to me either... I wanted someone who was supernatural. Here I am, the most lethal human on the planet - come and try me, if you dare... So many did, and none came anywhere near... Stiles got closest, but even he needed a gun...

You just need your arms, your body, your eyes, your smile, your cock, and I'm a helpless mess.

I close my eyes, move my head further back, exposing my throat to you in such an ultimate gesture of trust, groan as your thrusts increase speed and force, your fingers digging in my wrists.

"Yes - all yours..." I confirm.



I thrust into you, slamming against your thighs rhythmically.

We both groan with each impact, and you begin to rock your hips, pushing back against me... driving me deeper in in *in*...

god, I'm so deep inside you...

I have never felt this way before...

I'm surrounded by you, immersed in you...

Your head moves back, and I eye the pulse in your throat. My fangs come down, and my mouth opens. Fuck.

*No*. We don't do that to Sebastian, I shout at my vampire nature who snaps and snarls at me. Whatever. I make the rules. I always have. If I were just a vampire, I never could have risen up against my maker. And I *did*. And it was a thing of beauty.

And I say, when I drink from you it will be fucking beautiful, and you will live to see another day.

My vampire self narrows his glowing eyes at me, and slinks off into the shadows where he belongs.

And I smile at your words, and begin to stroke your cock.

"Then... come with me, Sebastian..." I sigh, and kiss you feverishly.



So good, so fucking good... yours, lying here, spread, taking you in, deep, filling me up, filling me up with your cock, with your eyes, with your words... Utter utter bliss...

Fuck I love being in love... I can't remember ever feeling this way, it's been so long... but I fucking love seeing you, feeling you, hearing you... I liked the others I fucked, sure, they were exciting enough, but it was more about the act first and the person second. This is completely the opposite - you could suggest we spend a day sorting out your stamp collection and I'd be delighted.


Then - your smile - your mouth - your fangs...


They're coming down...


Unlike other times when my life has been under direct threat, I don't get a rush of adrenaline. I don't have the urge to fight back.

This is probably worrying.

But I just look, see the fangs.

You may just get a bit. You may take the lot. Or it may be an involuntary response, like getting a hardon, just indicating you want blood, not necessarily that you are getting it.

I close my eyes. Do not move my head back. I trust you.

This is mental. My survival instinct never withdraws. Again I wonder about charms... incapacitating the prey... I should fight... But I don't want to fight you...


After an indeterminate amount of time I feel you stroke my cock, saying I should come with you, kissing me –


They're gone. They've retracted.

We'll talk about that later...

Now... I come...



Shit. You noticed the fangs, didn't you.

Didn't react, but there was a look in your eye... like... 'you and I are having a conversation'.

I feel a bit sheepish, which I've *only* ever felt with you... and... almost looking forward to talking about it? Which makes as much sense as a vampire and human falling in love in the first place...

Oh god... we did it, didn't we? We said it out loud...

Well, I'm fucking in love, and there's no use trying to get that mad genie back in the bottle...he's not going *anywhere*.

And we have other business to take care of... like an epic fucking orgasm for our First Time - the First Time for you and me. The time with Richard was so sweet and sexy, and the time with Jim as a human was dark and hot... but this time... is complex, nuanced like a fine wine... shifting flavours and notes lighting up delicious red nectar...

Oh god, don't think of red nectar...

I unleash all of my desire, all of my longing onto you, your body, your mouth... groaning, thrusting, growling... shivers move through me, and I feel you hovering on the brink of orgasm.

"Oh god... come..." I moan.

Shuddering against your body, I pour myself into you, dimly aware of you crying out and shaking violently in response. Your seed spills over my hand, and I collapse against you.

"Oh..." I whisper. "That was - oh..."



Yes - oh god yes -

This is amazing - my orgasm is coming from my toes, but it's not just physical ecstasy - seeing your face contract in pleasure, hearing your groans, makes my heart swell so much, makes me want to hold you closer, closer, for ever, melt together truly -

I feel your passion flow into me, and it sends me into thralls of rapture myself - Jim - fuck - JIM -

The world goes black, but only for a moment, I am not passing out, just - overwhelmed - fuck this is so goooood... I'm trembling, shaking, groaning, shouting... as are you - oh god Jim...

Slowly sight comes back. The ceiling - the ceiling I saw when I came in this bed last time, just before I passed out -

So much better now... you lying on my heaving chest, stickiness on our bellies.

You did it. You fucked me and didn't bite me.

And I loved it...

My sweet vampire...

I stroke your hair, see you raise your head, smile at me - so sweet - you look like Richard again, that sweet lopsided smile that I immediately fell in love with...



I have no words for the moment... I just rest my head against you, moving with the rise and fall of your chest, hearing your breath and your heartbeat...

When you touch my hair, I look up, suddenly longing to see your face. I break out into a smile...

"I hadn't smiled liked this for a very, very, very long time..." I murmur. "You will *ruin* me as a creature of darkness. Is that your plan, Sebastian?"

I lean down and kiss you. "Is it?" I whisper.



"I have no idea - you'll have to lend me the Vampire's Manual. Does it say you must solely stay in windswept turrets, brooding in a black mantle, and your only expression of mirth should be maniacal laughter when you've vanquished an enemy? Or are you allowed to smile and snuggle with cute soldiers?

You're right, that doesn't sound very dark and demonic... tell you what, I won't tell anyone. If they ask, you keep me in a basement in chains and only visit to outline your diabolical plans and feed."



"Mmm... but if you dangle the idea of you in a basement in chains in front of me, I may find that hard to resist."

I give you an impish smile. "I'll leave it to you to decide if I'm joking or not."

I nibble your neck. "Oh god, the Vampire's Manual is such a dour text... and yes, that's the summary right there. The ones who like to congregate and make decrees are insufferable, and lone vampires like me I rarely meet. It is *not* encouraged to smile and snuggle with cute soldiers... because once you share your secret, then the idea is that everyone is vulnerable. But I couldn’t care less about them and their safety... and I would choose the company of a sweet soldier any day."

I kiss your lips. "Maybe now that you've confessed your feelings for me, we can have that Twilight marathon after all..."



“Any time...” I snuggle my nose into your hair.

“Though the idea of being chained up in your basement appeals as well... do you have a basement? It’s not too damp, is it? Does it have nice comfortable cushions to lounge on whilst I wait for my dark prince to come and take his pleasure from me?”

“No basement here,” you shake your head sorrowfully. “Nor chains, unfortunately...”

“It’s appalling how poorly-equipped rental apartments are these days,” I commiserate. “Twilight marathon it’ll have to be then... though... I would also like to chat a bit, if you don’t mind? I mean, if you’re not going to let me read the manual... I do have a few questions. Is that alright? I mean, you can say if you’d rather not say, I don’t want to pressure you...”



I smile lazily at you, and curl my leg around yours. "I'm in no hurry to get up... ask away."

It crosses my mind that we don't need to stay here. Should I take you to my permanent residence? That would be a whole other level of trust... but how much trust have you shown me... showing up here, not knowing if I'd be angry, putting yourself at risk by being intimate with me, exposing your neck to me...

No, don't do it... my suspicious vampire nature snaps.

Richard shoulders him out of the way, dreamy-eyed.

"Speaking of rental apartments... this one is only mine for a couple more nights. I have my own place... if you wanted to come with me," I say shyly. "But - I'll understand if you want to go home, Sebastian..."

Oh god, Richard... here we go with the starry-eyed boy routine *again*...



"Does it have a basement?" I grin.

"I'd love to chat... can we have another cigarette? And - could I nick a beer if you still have one?"

"Of course - sorry - I'm not used to being a host-" you fluster - Richard again...

"It's fine... you have been the best host imaginable, so far..." I smile. "Don't get up, I know where it is..." But you're already running off, returning in a flash with a beer and an ashtray.

I take a deep gulp, offer it to you.



I take a sip, and hand it back to you as I get into bed and lean against the headboard. "Not really my drink of choice," I deadpan, then nudge your shoulder. "I'm referring to *wine*, silly..."

You fake-laugh heartily, and I burst out laughing.

"Idiot. So, it's a penthouse," I grin at you. "Sorry, no basement. Should I look for a country house and install a lovely dungeon for you?" I kiss the top of your head.

This feels so much easier, now. Now that Richard has what he wanted in the first place... *god*, I think in disbelief. You got a consummate player, *terrified* of love, to tell you he was in love with you after one night together... even though you nearly killed him. My hat is off to you. Silently I slow-clap, and Richard bows, looking pleased.

"I'm really happy you're here, Sebastian... what do you want to know?"



"A gothic mansion it'd have to be, I think..." I smile. "Haunted, of course. By someone in a long white night dress. And with chandeliers. I think my dad may have one for sale, but don't buy it - it's terribly draughty and the ghost was only ever seen by my mum."

I take another sip of my beer, light a cigarette, hand it to you, put the ashtray in between us. Like that first night... when you changed from Richard into Jim, slowly... I look at you, seeing you think the same.

"So - Richard - he's one of your personas, you said. But I said, and I still maintain this, that he is more than that. You do have that sweet, caring side. It may not get out a lot - like my protective side doesn't get out a lot - but it was so genuine - is that a side of you?"



Oh god... why are you asking me that? I thought you were going to ask questions about *vampires*, not about *me*...

"Is he more than a persona?" I say slowly. "I - don't -"

Richard is looking at me smugly.

"I don't really know how to answer that, Sebastian..." I say weakly. I take a drag intently off my cigarette, and blow out smoke away from you. "So you think each persona is automatically a part of someone? What about agents with secret identities? All of their personae are actually them in disguise?"

Richard shakes his head at me. Told you, Jimmy...



"No - I've played parts before. Sometimes they're a side of you, sometimes they're just - an act. But Richard... he was so sweet, and so loving, and so caring... I don't like to think that was just an act. Was it?"

I light my own cigarette, look at your face. It looks perturbed. Sorry, wrong question?



Richard stares me down, suddenly more confident than ever.

If you say yes... he whispers, you'll hurt him. Is it more important to you to keep pretending, Jimmy?

"No..." I murmur, staring off. "No, it wasn't an act..."

Richard beams at me. You don't need to keep me at a distance anymore...

He enfolds me in a hug.

But, I whisper inside my head. Richard, no! Don't leave me!

Silly, he whispers back. Where do you think I would go, Jimmy?

He melts into me, and I stare at you in shock.

"Oh..." I say, feeling lost. "It *wasn't an act*. It was me..."



Oh god you look so lost - so vulnerable - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have pried -

You talk like you only now are realizing that it's actually true - that Richard is a part of you; that you have a sweet and vulnerable side...

I didn't mean to make you feel exposed - oh Jimmy - Richard - my sweet...

I put my cigarette on the ashtray, move it to the side, hug you. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel uncomfortable. I just - I needed to know that that was real. That that way you looked at me - spoke to me - that that was you. Because they were the loveliest words I've heard in such a long time... and I wanted them to be true."



I blink as you enfold me in your strong arms. My hands curl around your shoulders, and I press my face into your chest.

Fuck... well this is a hell of a thing to discover about myself. Especially *as a vampire*. Considering I've been a psychopathic monster for longer than I was ever a vulnerable... Richard??

"They were true," I murmur. "Sebastian... everything was true. I wanted Someone... but I didn't know that until I saw you. And wanted it to be you."



"Same here," I mumble into your hair. "I mean - I thought I never wanted anyone. Ever. People were just - prey, like for you. To shag or to shoot. And then - I saw Richard - that smile - those eyes, so shy, so beautiful... and I wanted to shag him. But then when we were talking, and we touched - it was just like - a current went through us. And it was more than just sexual. I wanted you, fuck yes - but - if you'd have invited me over for a Twilight marathon, and only that, because, I don't know, you never fuck on a first date or something, I would have come - because I wanted to be with you more than I wanted to shag someone. And then - all the things we said - that I said, despite knowing that I couldn't - it was so true for me...

I'd have hated for all that to just have been an act to get me to stay long enough to drink my blood."



"It *wasn't*," I say fervently. "I was completely aware the entire time that I wanted you, and I was wishing it were possible... I can't tell you how distressing it was. I felt like I was coercing myself the entire time for what I thought I had to do..." I say in a forlorn voice.

I look up at you. "If Richard had invited you to a Twilight marathon... you would have still come??" I stare at you in disbelief, and then burst out laughing. "That is so *sweet*... really?"

I grin and rest my head against your chest. "I wish I had known... I would have loved to have seen your face when I asked..."

Dimly it occurs to me that I referred to Richard as myself... but I'm too happy in this moment to feel freaked out.



I laugh, making your head move. "I think I would have regarded it as the weirdest pick-up line ever. And I would have pretended I'd never seen them, because I would have wanted to come across all manly and stuff." You snigger. "And by the time I realized that you really really meant to just watch the films, rather than Twilight and chill - well. I would have happily followed you home, looking forward to spending about ten hours just cuddling with you, and talking about love, and similar things..."



"Oh, you're manly," I purr, running the back of my hand down your arm. "Even watching Twilight, you'll be the manliest..." Our gazes connect, and I feel that current again moving between us. Like I just had ten cups of coffee, or got jolted with electricity. "Is this what you meant by the current..." I ask, my voice low. "I felt it, too. Feel it... I have no idea what it is, just that - I can't imagine feeling it, and just - walking away..." My unneeded breath catches in my throat.



Your eyes go very wide, very black, as you look at me. Again I am reminded of a cat - the way their pupils go huge in times of great intensity.

"I feel it, yes..." I whisper, remembering Richard asking me - do you feel this, too? - and me taking the coward's route out, because I was terrified...

I look at you, and can tell you are thinking of the same moment.

I move my hand behind your head, pull you into a kiss, and the current moves up, to our lips, making them tingle where they touch. Our cigarettes are forgotten as we kiss, so sweetly, so gently, exploring the odd new feeling; I move my hand down your back, feeling the electricity following it - I've definitely never felt anything like this.



Your mouth against mine is so sweet... I hear myself sighing as our lips taste each other with such longing, such deep desire. Your hand on my back leaves a glowing, sparking stream of energy. I feel pleasure in my chest like a fizzing burst.

"Fuck," I whisper as we break apart, and I listen to your ragged breathing. "What are we going to do, Sebastian? After ten hours of Twilight and cuddling and talking about love... what then?"



"I don't know," I admit. "I didn't really think further than 'I really really don't want to lose you'..."



I look up at you, considering. "Hmm. Well. Maybe it's too soon to know."

No! I need to know everything *now*!!

"Maybe we'll just figure it out as we go."

Stupidest solution *ever*. Jesus...

"Maybe Twilight will lead us in the right direction... " I smile wryly. "Only - no tedious love triangles, no stupid blustery werewolves, no messianic CGI child who will tear our world apart and then show us a better way that leads to peace. And if we're going to have a standoff with a vampire cabal, I insist on violence. " You chuckle and lean down to kiss me. "Oh... I hope snarky commentary doesn't interfere with your enjoyment of romantic teen vampire films... it's happening regardless." I smile at you sweetly. "You remember enjoying Richard's bitchy side? Well, I'm the Queen Bitch."



"Well, we've kind of done the first two films," I muse. "I've fallen for you despite knowing you're a vampire - you don't sparkle, do you?" You shake your head, grimacing. "And you've disappeared and I was some blank pages for two days... fuck, I really felt empty without you." I look at your face, stroke your hair. "But yeah, I didn't make friends with a werewolf - that I know of, but you never know... in fact, it was a friend who helped me decide to come back tonight. Demmings, my old army mate - oh fuck! I promised I'd get in touch with him to let him know how it went - I think he wanted to make sure that I wouldn't be alone if I couldn't find you or you'd reject me - I better text him."

I move to get my phone, see your face.

"I didn't tell him you were a vampire! Just that I'd met someone - I couldn't forget..."



"And Demmings was *not* the one you slept with..." I say, my voice growing flinty. "No, that was *Stiles* and his big gun! I'm so happy to have a name to go with my overactive imagination... if you ever think of dropping any other names or exciting details, maybe just... *don't*," I growl. I feel my eyes glow for a moment. Shit. I rush to the kitchen so I can - not breathe, but just get my head together.

Fuck. Jealous vampire + human is a recipe for disaster.

I dig through the liquor bottles, and find rum. Perfect.

Rum and coke is what I need to calm down. I unscrew the lid and take a swig, before heading to the fridge. Just need to find some Coke... I take another swig and don't move towards the fridge.




How do you know about Stiles? And - his gun!?

What did I say in my fever dreams? Or - are you a mind reader?

And then you're off. Fucking hell. Are you going to make a habit of this? Because it's getting very old already.

I leave you to it - I'm not going to go trailing after you like some lovesick puppy. If you want to be a jealous bitch you can calm down on your own.

Scowling, I pick another cigarette and light it.



After a few more swigs, I open the fridge door. "Coke, where is the... ah..." I swipe a bottle, and pour myself a glass. Then I glare at the bedroom, swipe up the bottle, and carry it in with me.

"You're not going to follow me?" I demand. "Isn't that what people in love are supposed to do??"



"I don't know - are people in love supposed to walk off in a huff three times during the first two nights together?" I ask, peeved. "Because I don't really enjoy it. If you have a problem with something I've done, something I say - just tell me. Don't stomp off.

Fag?" I hold one out to you so you know I'm not pissed off with you, just - irked.



Shit. I'm fucking pouting, aren't I.

"I thought people in love are supposed to be accepting of who you are... I'm a psychopathic monster, for fuck's sake..." I say in a sulky, injured voice, and snatch your cigarette.

"And I 'stomped off' so I could control my temper this time... I was being *considerate*!" I snap. I look at your indignant expression, and hide my own by taking a drag off the smoke. I hold it in, but then my shoulders start shaking, and I burst out into smoky laughter.

"Well... it felt considerate at the time..." I choke out, giggling.



I'm getting pissed off, but then you're laughing, and looking utterly cute, and I am mollified.

"Right. You're a psychopathic monster, and I'm a slut. Are you going to be accepting of that as well?" I challenge.



I open my mouth, close it again. Open, close. I take a deep drink of rum, wipe my mouth.

"If by accepting you mean *in denial*... yes! Just *don't* talk about it... no names. No incidents. Nothing!" I roll my eyes and pour more fiery liquid down my throat. I cough, blink at you. I take another drag off your cigarette, blow smoke at you, and hand it back. "Agreed?" I ask hoarsely, and give you a sweet smile.



"... Fair enough," I acknowledge. "And I wasn't aware that I had mentioned anything. Was this when I was out of it, or are you a mind reader?"

"No!" you reply, angrily. "You were yabbering on about him when you were... incapacitated..."

"So that answers the question if we're going to be exclusive..." I grin, "Which is fine with me, but how are you going to get your food without flirting with your dinner?"



I beam at you about 'exclusive', and my smile falters at 'flirting'...

I think for a moment, chewing my lip. "Well... I can either flirt without *doing* anything... *or*... turn on vampire charm so they can't resist me... do you have a preference, darling?" I sidle up to you, and slide my arm around your shoulder. "See how considerate I can be, Sebastian?" I purr against your neck.



Aw. I'm completely melted again. You may be a jealous prima donna, but asking me how I want you to hunt is very sweet.

"You can hunt however you like, sweetie." Apparently we're calling each other darling and sweetie now. It sounds completely natural.

"Whatever works best. As long as you eat them and not shag them, I shan't be jealous..." I kiss your forehead.

"About this vampire charm... I've been wondering about it. Don't get pissed off with me asking, ok? I just - I don't know how it works. And I trust you when you say that you haven't used it on me, but - is it something that can work subconsciously? Could I have been affected by it without you knowing?"



Awwww... you're calling me sweetie now? Am I your sweetie now?

(Down, Richard...)

"I'm not doing anything different than when I was human... And I had the same reactions from people then... I just know how to turn on charm, darling." I nuzzle your neck.

"Was I turning on charm with you? Yes, at the very beginning... but I'm just a terrible flirt. I always have been. But with you I actually was flirting for real, not for the hunt. Vampire charm is... different. It's less flirty, and more 'Look into my eyes. Oh, you want me now. Come along...'" I raise my eyebrows. "I promise you, you would know the difference if you felt it. I just..." I falter. "I don't - I don't want to do it to you! Please don't ask... I don't want you to feel differently about me..."



You're a terrible flirt? But you're still the jealous type? Huh.

"I won't ask you to do anything you're not comfortable with," I assure you. "I did feel lost in your eyes though... especially when we were making love. I felt I could stare into them forever and forget about the world. I could imagine those eyes enchanting me... But sure, I believe you if you say it's a different thing.

Just - I'm trying to work out what's happening. And I hope you'll excuse me; I've never been in love with a vampire before. When you said that you had this - sort of blood tracker on me, that after you'd tasted my blood you could find me anywhere. I assume that's a hunter's perk - you can find your prey if it's managed to escape. But - what about the prey? Do you know of anything - could it be that I was so - empty because of some effect your bite had on me? That the predator can find the prey back, and that the prey... isn't capable of fighting back?"

I feel horrible for asking this, but I want to be sure, absolutely certain, that the feelings I am having are my own... I'm sorry, I don't want to be insulting, my sweet vampire... I am just utterly at a loss. It's not like I've been in love with an adult human before either...



Hearing you refer to us making love makes me want to *swoon*. God, this merging with my Richard ‘persona’... what has it done to me?

And what have *you* done to me, Sebastian? Someone getting angry at me would normally result in a ripped out throat... *not* blustering and helpless giggles. Jesus...

Oh... you have more questions, and I have no idea what the answers are...

I look at you doubtfully. “I don’t think - a bite would cause *emptiness*. Anyway I felt empty, too! How do you explain that? Blame stupid love, not a vampire bite! I’ve never felt so low... life felt fucking meaningless, more so than usual,” I say mournfully. “I never want to feel that way again... but... you have to decide for yourself if this is real,” I say sadly. “I want you to *know* your feelings are real. I won’t stand in your way if you need to leave. And I won’t hunt you.” That means no killing him if he leaves, I tell myself firmly.

*If he leaves...*

My happiness plummets.



"I'm sorry, Jim... I must sound like an awful suspicious person... it's just - I have no idea how this works, and you are my only source of information. And for what it's worth - I do trust you. I do believe that you are telling me the truth as far as you know it. I mean - it wouldn't serve you to lie. You could have drunk me dry any time, so I do believe that you are genuinely in love. And I also believe that you would want my feelings to be genuine as well. I am just checking in case - well - you might have had some subconscious effects or something.

I'm not used to this - I've never been in love since I was a young teen. So it's all so alien... and my mind is freaking out, trying to work out what the cause is. And it makes sense that the cause is you, but you are two unique factors - an individual, and a vampire.

And - being in love for me is a big thing. A very big thing. So I want to be absolutely certain that it's you that affects me, and not the vampire bit. So - I'm sorry if I ask questions that make you uncomfortable, that are even insulting to you. I'm just - confirming the being in love thing. If that makes sense.

So - yes, I believe what you're saying, and that your feelings were similar, and that it's not a vampire/prey thing. Thank you for being patient and helping me understand."

I kiss your hair. There's still some blood in it - we'll have to have a shower.



I listen to you explain all this to me, trying desperately not to interrupt you by kissing you senseless. I place my hand on your face.

“I *understand*, darling... considering I nearly killed you, it’s sweet of you to worry about causing me offence.” I study your face, searching your eyes. “And - I can see why you’d be cautious after all the times I’ve flown off the handle already. Believe me, this is alien for me, too. I *certainly* have never been in love before, and I never considered anyone’s feelings, *ever*... well, since childhood, anyway. I can try to help you understand as best I can, but you need to be patient with me, too! I know how I feel! To have you question how you feel makes me feel sad! And I don’t handle that well, as we’ve seen. But if this what you need...” I stare into your eyes, and kiss you. “I’ll give you what you need, Sebastian... what do you want to do? Is there anything else you want to ask?”



Really!? Oh...

That... hits me quite hard, actually.


I stare at you, you look back. "What?"

"You've never been in love before?"



“Noooo...” I stare back at you, bewildered. Why are you looking at me like that?

“Is it that hard to believe? I was a psychopath... a criminal... now a vampire... love never entered the equation. I didn’t *want* it to... And it feels very... disorienting...” I say carefully. “Like... my navigation system has cocked up completely. Thanks a lot, Sebastian...” I say drily. Then I smile fondly at you, and kiss the back of your hand.



"Sorry..." I beam. I have never been less sorry in my life. Oh my sweet, adorable psychopathic criminal vampire... never been in love... I can't...

I kiss your hand as well.

"That is... very honouring. I hope to be worth the inconvenience to your navigation system.

So - can I ask... how old are you? Does vampirism stop you ageing? Are you, like, immortal, except for certain things like a stake through the heart? You don't have to tell me how you can be killed, I didn't mean that. I just meant - do you not age, like in the stories? Or is that a myth?"



“My, you do have a lot of questions! All right, get comfy, darling...”

I settle against you again. I don’t like how it felt to be parted.

“I was 25 when I was made vampire... I guess it will be one year, next week. Happy first vampire birthday to me,” I roll my eyes. “Yes, it stops you from ageing... and only certain things like a stake through the heart will kill you.”

Tell him, my inner Richard urges. Show him you trust him...

Absofuckinglutely *not*... no one gets that information.

“So I’ll be young and beautiful for as long as I live, that’s a plus. But I have a habit of infuriating vampire cabals, so I doubt it will be forever. And who wants to live forever, anyway? Fucking boring...”



Oh, a recent vampire... I hadn't expected some centuries-old guy, but you're younger than I am. And you won't age... huh. Well, this probably won't be a very long relationship then... I'll just age, and you won't...

Jesus, Sebastian. You just met the guy. Can you not start thinking about having to break up with him due to ageing already? Wait a week, or so?

"So - how does one get made a vampire? How were you made a vampire? And what are these cabals?"

I finish my beer.



There’s a strange look on your face for a moment, and then it passes. What? The no-ageing thing? What do you care, you’re not old...

“Actually, that’s one thing that is like books and films. A vampire drains you, brings you to the point of dying... and then gives you his blood. Then you feed. And that’s exactly what happened... I -“

I hesitate. This is not a good memory for me. But I told you I’d give you what you need, and you obviously feel the need to understand this vampirism thing better.

“I had a client.” I grit my teeth. “He wanted to meet for drinks. I’d been doing contracts for him for a while, so I thought I knew him well enough. After we conducted business, he gave the impression that he could tell what I’d be into, and that he was, too. And so I figured, why not. He was attractive, and it had been a while...”

I take a swig of rum, and wait for the burning in my throat to subside.

“I did take a bodyguard with me to the club... But things were going well, and I told the guy to hang back and not get too close. The problem was, the club was so packed... the idiot lost track of me. I’ve always wondered if my client used vampire mind control on him... Anyway, my client was waiting for me outside the toilets, and he fucking bit me...” I pause, my jaw clenched. “It happened so quickly. I lost a lot of blood, and I was so weak. I fought him, but... vampire strength. He pretended I was too drunk, and he was helping me walk - I must have looked ill and on the verge of passing out. So he took me out to the alley, and finished the job...”

I pour more rum down my throat, and have a coughing fit. You rub my back soothingly, and try to take the bottle from me, but I cling to it.

“I was dying. Part of me had always wanted to die, but in the moment... I wasn’t ready. But I did consider letting go. Do you know what I mean?”

You have a look in your eye. You know.

“So when he told me I could live if I drank his blood... in the back of my mind, I was aware of what would happen, but - you know what the only real factor was for me?” I look at you, questioningly. You shake your head, staring at me with rapt attention.

“If I was dead... I couldn’t take my vengeance on him.” I raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t hesitate. I drank as much as I could. And then I died.”

I nod at you. “Oh, yes... you do die before you become a vampire. And then... the vampire blood you took in does whatever alchemical thing to you that it does. And you rise as a vampire. I don’t know how much later. It was night-time. But was it that night? The next night?

I awoke behind bins, feeling crazed and ravenous. Out of my head. I got up and drained the first person I found. The fucker had left me on my own to figure things out myself. I had to find shelter before dawn... I found an abandoned warehouse, and broke in and slept. My maker was waiting for me the next night... Can I have a cigarette?”

My hands are shaking... vampires *don’t shake*.



So many thoughts -

so many feelings...

You were a consulting criminal with a successful business already at age 25.


You went with a client because you wanted to have sex with him.


Yeah, well. If you get to be jealous so do I. Note how I’m not stomping off.

Guy drained you of blood. Not a little, but completely. You were dying.


How fucking dare he... I’m going to fucking kill him...

Considering letting go...

Pity. Love. Understanding. Oh my sweet little prince...


Pride. Recognition. Yes.

You died.

Oh god.

You actually died.

I mean, I’d read it in books and seen it in films, but - hearing it from you - oh god that must have been terrible - I’ve been close to death, and it’s fucking scary and often painful as hell.

And the waking up... crazed and confused... fucking bastard couldn’t have waited? Explained what had happened? Got you some food?!

I hand you a cigarette, kiss your hand as you take it. I don’t want to speak, don’t want to interrupt your story, but I want you to see that I’m here for you, that I’m supportive.



I try to light the cigarette, but I fumble and you have to do it for me.

Jesus... I don't know why I'm telling you all this... I could have summarized this in five sentences. Three.

I take a long drag. My hands are still shaking, but the cigarette smoke helps. Why are vampires affected by emotions?? I really do need to start a lab to study this...

"So. It's fair to say I was not happy to see him. He laughed and made a big deal out of how it made me stronger to be on my own when I rose. Some shite about how it was more old world and more traditional, and 'young vampires today' were weak... and wasn't I fortunate that I didn't wake to find myself in a coffin like in the old days... like digging yourself out of a grave would make you the best vampire you could be." I bark out a laugh.

"Really I think he just liked playing God. Also he was from one of the more hardcore cabals. Fuckers..." I take another drag and exhale. "I had one purpose in life, death, unlife, whatever - and that was to kill him. But I couldn't do it until I'd gathered the information I needed." I shrug. "Until I'm ready to go, I'm a survivor. So I went with him, learned from him, was introduced to the cabal... oh, darling. I wanted to firebomb the lot of them. But I had to play along with their stupid rules, until I'd learned everything I could.

I was always so good at that in life - playing a role, burying my feelings, not giving in to pain... When I turned, I couldn't do it as well, or as long. I don't know why.

So one day - I rose against my maker. I shouldn't have been able to... I'm a fledgling vampire, and he had been undead for a century. And more importantly, the bond between 'Sire' and 'childe' as they call it (pretentious twats) is supposed to be inviolable.

But I didn't believe that. I explored and experimented, to see what could weaken him... or weaken our bond. I broke into a cabal library... found a centuries-old tome, and pieced together a plan. And - well, I couldn't stick to it. I was so infuriated by being in his presence, I snapped and severed the bond. So I could do what I liked to him. And I *did*... it was a *very* messy, very bloody demise, I can tell you. But word got out to the cabal... and they were *furious* with me, darling... Not only had I broken one of their sacred laws, but I also had the secret which could destroy their hierarchical society.

So they've been after me ever since..." I tap the cigarette in the ashtray, and hold it out to you. I look closer at you, and your face is suddenly very pale.

"Are you feeling alright, Sebastian?" I ask with concern. "Do you need some soup?"




"No... but I do need a drink. Can I...?" I reach for the rum bottle, and you release it this time. I take a deep swig.

Wow. Right. Lots there.

"So - you rebelled against the guy who made you a vampire using some old forbidden knowledge. And so, you are now a fugitive vampire chased by some cabal, which is like - a pretentious group of old vampires. Supposedly very deadly. And you managed to escape them - how? With your criminal organization, cunning, regular movement?"

You nod.


I shake my head, then start grinning.

"What?" you ask.

"Nothing, just..." I grin wider.

"What!?" you ask suspiciously.

"It's just so typical. That the one guy I fall in love with is probably the most dangerous to know man in London. Fucking adrenaline junkie..." I chuckle. I really don't see what else I can do.

"Wow. Jim, that's - quite the story. And - I applaud you, for standing up to them. You don't strike me as the type to quietly sit back and do what others tell you, especially not a bunch of pompous twats like those, but it does sound like it took some serious balls, genius, and fighting conditioning.

And - telling me this - when you hardly know me - that's really - shows a lot of trust. Thank you."



I wave this aside. "You showed a lot more trust coming back here, Sebastian..." My hand curls around the back of your neck and I draw you close to me for a kiss.

Which I promptly break off as I realise what you've said.

"I'm so selfish... I didn't even think of the risk it could pose for you... I'm just so used to staying one step ahead of them, I didn't consider..." I look at you for a long moment. "I understand if you think it's too dangerous... You shouldn't have to take that risk on. Maybe you should just go, and forget me..."

I can't keep my soldier? My Sebastian??

I will *not cry*...



“Nonono! That’s not what I meant!” I say, shocked. “I meant it more as in Lord Byron -

Look - I am the son of a Lord who is not above a bit of bribery and old boys networking. I’m not dumb. I went to Eton, Oxford, did well enough. I could have got any cushy job I wanted.

Instead, I quit uni and joined the army. Applied for the special forces, got in, specialized in demolition. Then retired and became an assassin.

What does that tell you about my risk aversion?”



*Special forces*... *demolition*... *assassin*...

The words float around my mind, echoing... *glowing*...

"That you're a fucking adrenaline junkie? As if falling in love with the vampire who nearly killed you didn't give you away, darling..."

Tears successfully held back, I grin at you.

"Well... if it's danger that you like, it follows me like a ravenous wolf. They've been quiet lately, but I'm sure they're doing their very best to hunt for me... too bad the one vampire who could have led them to me was fed into an industrial-sized shredder. I even took pictures of it for them! But I take it they weren't impressed..."

I lay my head on your shoulder. "I'm - very fortunate to have found you, Sebastian. I know that. What else would you like to know, sweet knight?"



I'm relieved you don't seem to think that you are too dangerous for me.

"I would like to state for the record that I didn't fall in love with you because you are dangerous. I mean - Richard did not look like the epitome of peril to me. But - it doesn't scare me off. Though - I have to admit, seeing you - I probably wouldn't stand a chance if I came up against a vampire. Do bullets work on you? I mean you, vampires, not you personally. I'm sorry, it does seem like I'm constantly enquiring how to kill you. I assure you I intend to do no such thing. Though to be fair, you know all about how to kill me...

Silver bullets?"



I stare at you for a long time.

Trust him like he's trusted you, Richard whispers.

"I'm about to break a big fucking rule, Sebastian... not just the cabal's rule, but my own. Here's how you kill a vampire..."

I stand and begin to pace. "Popular culture is actually pretty good about this, so someone must have spilled the beans. At different points in time, because some of these became known earlier, and some later..." I begin to tick off on my fingers.

"Something pointy through the heart. Beheading. Fire - but really, anything that fully destroys the body, so it can't heal. A bomb would do the trick, too.

Garlic is a non-issue. Forget holy water and crucifixes. That's Christian bullshit.

Silver, that's an interesting one... current films and books have been all about silver. Well, it won't kill us, but it will *weaken* us. Silver nitrate, however... I've discovered that can burn us, and enough of it will burn us away entirely. Don't ask how I figured this out. I've been trying to modify different types of weapons to use with silver nitrate, with varying degrees of success.

So you think you wouldn't stand a chance against a vampire... but you're an assassin with a military background, and some pretty juicy secret knowledge about their weaknesses."

I sit down and sling an arm around you. "Are you rethinking killing me? I make a much cuter boyfriend than a pile of char and ash."



"I'm thinking of how to protect you, to tell you the truth..." I say, pondering.

"So - something pointy through the heart - would a bullet work, if fired through the heart? The head? If you don't heal that quickly - if you take out, say, an eye, an area of the brain, would that incapacitate them? An incendiary round to make their head explode?

How does the silver weaken you?

Silver nitrate - could it be used as a poison? But then how to administer a poison to people who live on blood...

The thing is, I wouldn't want to get too close, so guns are the preferred weapon. I am confident I can kill any human at close range - but I'm not too keen to try on your kind..."



I blink at you. I thought you were thinking self-defence, not protecting me...


"I don't think bullets work, and besides... you see how fast we are. Bullets have that cheery little sound to let us know they're coming. You could explode a head, but you'd have to make contact. But yes, if you manage to take out an eye or area of the brain, you could possibly incapacitate them. Just remember, we feel pain but we generally don't let that stop us."

I tilt my head as I think. "Yes, silver nitrate would make a good poison. At the very least, it would incapacitate us. I should show you the lab where I've been working on weapons..." I yawn, and crawl onto your lap.

"But not today. Today is for you and me. I'd say we've earned a day of cuddles and vampire films. And... perhaps we'll find other ways to amuse ourselves..." I whisper into your ear, and kiss your neck.



Too fast for bullets? Then how on earth do you manage to get to them to decapitate or put a stake through the heart?

But then I'm distracted by a cute little vampire in my lap. Yes. Weapons are all very useful, but we're not in immediate danger, and we should get to know each other better...

"Sorry," I grin. "Soldier through and through - tell me about people and I'll be thinking about how to kill them. But you're more than right - we have so earned a day of cuddles and vampire films. I suggest we have a shower first - we're a bit sticky..."

You smile, lead me to a bathroom, start up the shower. "Set it to the temperature you want... I don't have a preference," you shrug. I get under - it's perfect - and take the bottle of shampoo that's sitting there, squirt it in your hair, start washing it. A little bit of pink comes out, but not that much.

I look at the wound, and it looks like it's healing already - wow.


Chapter Text

Your pleasure knows no limits
Your voice is like a meadowlark
But your heart is like an ocean
Mysterious and dark



My ears perk up. Shower? With Sebastian?

Yes, please...

Before I know it, you're *washing my hair*... *ohhhhh*... My eyes are closed, and I'm blissing out to the sensation of water, your hands on me, rubbing my scalp, the fragrant shampoo... and then I feel your fingers probing... are you checking my wound?? My *sweet* soldier...

I open my eyes. "Everything alright?"

You nod in amazement, and I grin. "Told you I heal fast..."

You lather me up with conditioner next, and touch my nose with foam. I giggle despite my best efforts not to, and wipe the foam off.

"Silly. Now let me do *you*..."

Now it's your turn for your eyes to close, and you bend down so I can reach. I get to admire your wet naked body, and *holy fuck*, you are *so beautiful*...

Too bad about human stamina... I'll have to wait for a bit before I can pounce on you again...

I eye your cock mournfully.


I hear a throat being cleared.

I look up and your eyes are open. You give me a lazy smile.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You're waiting for conditioner, aren't you..." I say innocently.



Getting a bit distracted there, my insatiable vampire? Well, I'm sorry, but someone drained me of rather a lot of blood recently, and now I'm not quite as quick to recover as I usually am.

"Do I look like I use conditioner?" I ask, as I pull you close. "That's for beautiful soft hairs like yours... not rough straw like mine. I was more thinking of using that body wash on your beautiful body..."

I reach for the bottle, push some on my hands, and spread it over your smooth skin. It's such a delight to feel my hands glide without resistance over your supple sleek body... I cover your chest, move against you, enjoy our torsos slithering together as I rub my hands over your back. Your muscular arms, twining my fingers with yours... your pert bottom... moving down, I wash your legs, your feet...

Oh look what is at a perfect height while I'm down here...

I smile up at you, duck a little, lift my face, lick the underside of your cock while my foamy hands play with your balls.



God, your hands on me feel like a *dream*... a sweet, delicious dream that I never want to wake up from...

One thing some vampire films got wrong is to see us as seductive, but non-sexual creatures. As I understand it, our power comes from crossing back to life from the realm of death. So we're not quite living, but not quite dead... and sexuality doesn't go away, it just has that tinge of the underworld to it. So if anything it gets *more* intense... and a lot more fucking dark.

Which I like... *very* much...

And I suspect you'll like experiencing it too, at my hands...

But all thoughts of intensely hot, dark sex with you are pushed aside, when you're down on your knees and your tongue is on my cock.

*Ohhh, god*... *Sebastian*...

I touch the wall for support, moaning.



Oh yes... You are not affected by blood loss, that is clear...

The back of my mind wonders how it works for you - do you have more blood when you've fed and less when you're hungry? Like with people, I suppose - blood is sustenance for you, it doesn't go directly into your bloodstream like with a transfusion.

The front of my mind is occupied with this gorgeous gorgeous cock. Proudly erect, a slight curve to it, masculine beauty personified, like a marble statue come to... not quite life.

I lick around it as the shower keeps raining on us, let my mouth fill with water that I then let flow over you, lick playfully as my hands keep playing, finally close my mouth over your head and suck you in.

God, this feels good... on my knees in front of my dark prince, who is moaning in delight at my ministrations...

I give a little moan myself, making you shiver.



Oh god...

Oh *god*...

You are *gifted* at this... I've never been with *anyone* like you.

You're so... oh...

"Darling," I gasp. "If you wanted to ever leave, you should *not* have shown me what you can do. You're *not going anywhere*..."

I hear you chuckle, and this makes me shiver even more.

"What's so funny? I'm not joking, you big lump..."

This makes you snigger even louder.

"I'm not-" My protest is swallowed by moaning, and my head falls back as you increase your pace and intensity.

Oh - god - *SoAmazingSoAmazingFuuuuck*...



Hmmm, so you don't approve of my tarting around, but you do enjoy the skills I picked up...

And apparently that means I'll be your prisoner from now on... well, I can't say that there's anywhere I'd rather be, for now.

I look up at you and you look majestic... really like a prince of the night. Those majestic brows, chiselled cheekbones, stubbled jaw, your lips slightly parted in a pout, black hair slick against your head... Fuck, you're so incredibly beautiful... no wonder you don't have to trade on your vampire charm, anyone would follow you anywhere, whether you are sweet shy adorable Richard or haughty imposing dark Jim...

I wonder what you were like before you became a vampire. You must have been quite something, to already have your own criminal network at 25...

You are starting to quiver, moan quite loudly, your balls are tightening...

Any moment now...

I keep the rhythm, use my tongue, my lips...



This will be my first time coming in your mouth, and it's so - fucking - amazing - you're - so - fucking - amazing - oh *GOD* -

I'm pressed against the wall of the shower, making sounds like a porn star... and then, like a dying porn star...

and then I'm a dying star, expelling my cosmic materials, entering into death throes.

I dimly remember my love affair with astrophysics, the violent beauty of the dying star breathing its last breath...

and then I'm thinking of nothing as I shiver against your mouth, gasping and moaning.

You make me *breathe* again...

You make me *breathe*...




Your moans, your groans, your spasms are becoming stronger and stronger and there we go...

I swallow your seed. It tastes delicious. - I'm not sure what I had expected? It's - a bit less hot than usually, I guess. I lick and suck as you gasp and whimper and shudder gratifyingly.

I absolutely love sucking cock - I love sitting on my knees giving another pleasure, but with you it's a whole new dimension. Hearing your pleasure is not just a reward for a task well performed, not just hot as fuck, but it makes my heart glow with happiness, to give you such pleasure...

Fuck, I'm in deep...



I'm holding myself up to keep from sliding down the bathroom wall and landing in a heap. My legs are trembling...

All of me is trembling.

Which is *so strange*... vampires are powerhouses unless they haven't eaten or rested sufficiently. But this is something else entirely... you're making me feel... almost human.

It's not even alarming, like it would be with someone else... I decide I like it.

"Oh god, Sebastian..." I murmur. "I don't know how you did it, but I feel like I'm going to keel over. Vampire strength officially sapped. Can you help me out of the tub, or I'm joining you on the bathtub floor... Oh... I still have conditioner in my hair..." I stare down at you, flustered at how dazed I feel.

I'm the height of elegance and darkness...

I'm a bloodsucking fiend...

I'm a trembling vampire with foamy hair, and I'm. Completely. Smitten.



I grin like the cat who got the cream - quite literally.

I stand up, wrap my left arm around you, use my right hand to wash the conditioner out of your hair. It's funny - you are so small and light, it's so easy to feel that I am the big strong soldier supporting you, but you're stronger than I am... Except you're not now; you're trembling slightly and I'm holding you up, and I feel strong and protective and supportive...

I kiss your lips, so soft, so velvety, so dreamy...

I'm getting a bit unstable on my feet myself, I fear.



Oh... there's something about you holding me up, being so protective...

I really, really like it. In fact, it's making me want to swoon...

Of course, this is a non-issue... I love the thought of you being protective of me, but I'll always be stronger than you. It's just a fact of life.

You're pressing your lips softly against mine... pressing me against the wall.

"Oh... Sebastian..." I murmur against your lips.



Mmmm, that voice... soft, dreamy...

I turn off the shower and you grab us both a towel. We towel ourselves and each other off, whispering and giggling - god, I feel so light and cheerful; everything is beautiful and interesting - is this what being in love is like? It’s been so long...

You offer me another beer, get yourself another rum and coke, and we’re snuggling on the sofa, you with your feet up, resting in my arms - you fit so perfectly, like I was chiselled specifically to accommodate you - maybe I was...

“What would you normally be doing now, after you finish your hunt? Is it a Twilight marathon every night?” I ask. I want to know all about you... not vampires in general, just you.



"Not *every* night..." I snigger, then look up at you. Oh. You really want to know... how unusual to be asked something about myself. How *sweet*...

"Depends... I read a lot. The things I never had time for in life... astrophysics. Quantum theory." I speak the words lovingly, and see galaxies swirling in front of my eyes. "But I've been watching films and TV, too. It's like - still being connected to the world, somehow. Which is funny, because I wanted nothing to do with the world when I was human. There's something about being ripped away from it against your will... like, you'll never get over what you lost..."

*Pain*. It still gets to me. Killing my maker was too good for him... I should have made him suffer far worse...

I pull myself out of my thought-current. This is not a moment for fury.

You pull me closer, making a reassuring sound. I close my eyes briefly, leaning against you.

I'm not used to support. I'm not used to comfort.

Please... Don't show me what it's like and then take it away...



“What did you lose?” I ask. “I’m sorry if that’s too intrusive, I didn’t mean...

But - from what you said it doesn’t seem that you lost stuff you had in life? You still have your business, you can still do - enjoyable things like eating and drinking and having sex,” I smile at that one, “and - you are immortal, as good as, and immensely strong - it seems an overall win? So - what am I missing?”



I consider this. “Well, if you’d been through it, you would understand... It was traumatic, and then after I killed my maker I had to fend for myself and figure things out on my own to survive. I already did that as a human before I turned 18!”

Shut up, Jimmy, shut up...

“It seems like you can experience being turned differently, but what happened for me is it brought out feelings I thought had died a long time ago. And I felt... sad. I was alone as a human, by choice... but somehow being along as a vampire felt different. I didn’t choose it, and I don’t want to be alone eternally... I’m pretty much alive out of spite, or I would have enjoyed my final day in the sun by now. I want to destroy the cabal. The only reason they’re still around is I haven’t been in a good place emotionally...” I laugh and cover my face with my hand. “Even hearing myself say that sounds ridiculous. *God*... the brooding vampire... could I be any more *ordinary*?” I look at you. “Well, except for the killing my maker thing, learning ancient vampire secrets and plotting to destroy the cabal. And you’re right, there are some cool things about it...” I grin at you. “Being a terrifying bad-ass is fun, I won’t lie...“



Hearing you say all this makes me sad... you sound so lonely, so... bleak.

And I think I can understand that - being alone as a human is - alright. I never had a problem with it. Well, until this weekend. But being alone eternally... sounds quite a bit more scary.

I never looked at death as a comfort. But I guess it is, in a way - knowing that whatever you do, life is short and you make of it what you can, and then you die, game over. If they tell you 'here you go, you can live forever if you don't do anything too stupid' - that does sound kind of intimidating. All of a sudden you have eternity to fill...

I pull you closer, kiss your hair.

"You're not alone any more..."



I haven't summarized it like this for myself... it's strange to hear it out loud, given that I never talked about myself, ever, ever...

what is it about you that makes me open up? I wouldn't have opened up like this as a human...

I picture myself, the great Jim Moriarty, talking about my feelings with a cute blond soldier after one night together...

*Fuck*, no... what a laughable thought...

As a vampire... I'm going against my concealing nature, but this feels like my only opportunity to be heard... to be *known*...

The cold darkness of eternity has left its black mark on me.

And then I hear you say it...

"You're not alone any more..."

And I stare at you, my face scrunched up like I'm in pain. I rest my head against your chest, and my arms slide tightly against you.

I'm not going to cry, I'm not going to cry, I *will not cry*...



Oh - should I not have said that?

You look so - oh god Jimmy -

I pull you close into my chest, because you look like you are trying desperately not to let me see you cry, and I want to give you the opportunity to hide your tears.

I don't know - isn't it very early to say this? Isn't it ridiculous to say this, since in the face of forever I will only be with you for the blink of an eye, regardless of how long we stay together?

That thought makes me sad...

I mean, usually, I seem to understand, not that I have much experience of this, but usually, people fall in love, and think of staying together their entire lives as the ultimate goal. Till death do us part. Not that many of them make that. But even if we were to stay together till death do us part, it will only be a brief moment at the start of your life... or unlife, as you call it. You will get attached to me, and then I will get older, and you won't. You may tire of me, want a younger specimen. Or you may be so very attached to me that you stay, and then you'll have to see me weaken and die, like in Highlander.


(Eh... Sebastian?)

... what...

(Not to be annoying, or anything, but can you stop the fucking star-cross'd lovers bullshit - you've just fucking met.)

Well so had Romeo and Juliet.

(Not a good example.)

I guess...

Anyway, I have a sweet sad vampire on my lap, and I'm not quite sure how one cheers one of those up. I just stroke your hair, wait until you are ready to come back up. I have all the time in the world... despite being the mere mortal.



Ah, fuck... I didn't mean to do this.

I sniffle, and wipe my eyes.

"Fuck," I mutter. "I'm still getting the hang of feelings as it is, and - everything that's happened between us has been rather intense. I'm not usually a weepy mess... quite the opposite, actually."

I look up at you, self-consciously.

"You didn't come back for a sob story..." I smile at you, my eyes gleaming. "You came for cuddles and Twilight and... wherever that may lead..." I say innocently. "Are you hungry? I can order food..."

Suddenly I remember you're still recovering from the other night. Shit.

"Oh - how are you feeling?? I can't believe I didn't ask...Did you have dinner, darling?" I fuss, caressing your hair.



Look at us both. The fearsome prince of the night and the elite soldier. I grin.

But I’m loving this new side of you - am loving every side I’ve got to see so far; sweet shy Richard, dominant hot Jim, the scary strong fast vampire, the sad lost little boy...

I wonder how many other sides you have...

Oh yes there’s the ‘if you hint at ever having known anyone else or leaving I’ll throw a hissy fit’ side. Less impressed with that one. But hopefully that’ll get less.

“I’m absolutely fine, my sweet...” glowing at the darling...

“I had dinner, yes, fish and chips. I don’t need food, thanks... maybe some water would be a good idea. I’m feeling all this beer.”

You get me a big bottle of water and I drink from it deeply - hadn’t quite realized how much beer I’d been drinking. On a depleted bloodstream... I yawn.

Nonono - no sleeping yet!

“Could I have some coffee, you reckon?”



I feel unhappy about not feeding you... After all, I didn't *see* you eat the fish and chips, did I? But I don't think I can force you to eat a meal... can I? No... I don't think couples force each other to do things... Wait, are we a couple now??

"What?" I ask, distracted.

"Coffee - could I have some?" you ask.

"Coffee. Oh. Yes, I'll make some for you... Black like your soul?"

You smile at me. I remember the poignancy of learning how you take your tea... just two nights ago, before everything fell apart.

Am I feeling triggered by making a caffeinated beverage??

Oh, that is *it*... we're getting off this maudlin train now.

I wrap my arms around you, and kiss you deeply. By the time I'm done, your eyes are glazed over.

"Don't fall asleep, Sebastian..." I whisper. "One black coffee coming right up."

I gaze into your eyes, kiss you again, and hop off the sofa. I head to the kitchen, looking back at you with a seductive smile.



That was... one hell of a kiss.

How is it hotter to kiss someone whose body temperature is cooler? Is that paradoxical?

I don't know what happened, but you took my breath away, and I'm sitting on the sofa half-dazed as the sound of the kettle comes from the kitchen.

Hmmmm, I think I may have recovered enough... Would you? You seem to recover quite quickly... this vampire thing does have its advantages...

You come back with a cup of strong black coffee. It smells delicious, but your look almost makes me forget I wanted anything else than… that...

Your black eyes with their hooded brows staring into me, looking like they can see my soul, and want to devour every cell of my body in order to get to it...

Your hand, so strong, so pale, veins moving as you hand me the cup - that by now almost familiar current as your finger touches mine...

You sit down, looking at me, and I realize I'm holding my breath, let it out. The air between us has become supercharged.



I look at you, then crawl onto your lap. I pluck the coffee cup from your hand, and place it on the table.

"Where were we?" I murmur, and slide my arms around you.

I kiss you with urgency.

You're here... you're *here*... back on the sofa, back in my arms...

My legs move around your waist.

"Mmm. I should let you drink your coffee..." I say, staring up at you through my eyelashes. My lips return to yours and kiss you hungrily.



Coffee? What?

All I can feel is your legs around me, your arms around me, your lips on me... Jim, Richard, my beautiful vampire, my hot prince...

My body is warm enough for the both of us; I feel like I'm on fire, want to touch you everywhere, all over, all the time...

I feel a stirring in my groin, oh yes, I'm definitely recovered...

I moan against your lips, feel a responding pressure against my belly as you shift.



I break off the kiss to gaze into your eyes and rock gently against your pelvis.

"I think I saw some biscuits in the pantry..." I say innocently.

My lips press against your neck.

"Beautiful Sebastian..." I murmur into your skin.

Your head falls back, and I kiss up along your throat and under your jaw.

God, that feeling of surrender is dizzying...

"I want you to feel you naked and underneath me..." I whisper fiercely. My hand clasps your jaw, and I kiss you hard.



Lips against my neck, still sore from the bite... You licking the puncture wounds makes me shiver slightly... but in a good way...

Kissing everywhere, such intense sensations; your lips, your tongue, your teeth softly scraping but not biting...

But I'd let you... god, I'd let you do anything...

Baring your neck to a vampire, you must be mental, Moran, but it feels so good... a slight sucking kiss makes gooseflesh break out from my toes to the top of my head... my hair must be standing on end by now...

'Naked and underneath me...'

Oh god...

And then you grab me and claim my mouth demandingly, and I melt... god, you don't have to say much, do much...

I've had partners who go through all the dressing up, tying up, dressing down, and it still feels like an empty act - but you - you have an aura about you that just makes me want to fall to my knees open-mouthed, want to serve you, adore you - you are a god in human form, and I don't know if it's a side effect from the vampirism or if it is just you, but god... your voice, soft as the sheen on steel, makes me shiver, your hands, so strong and precise...

Yes, tell me how you want me and that's how I will be, forever...



My legs tighten around you, and I grind against your pelvis.

"I'm sorry, Sebastian. Twilight will have to wait. You have *real* vampire sex in your immediate future. Not a wedding night with a sweet, sparkly *vegetarian*..." My voice grows rough. "But you can take it, can't you, darling..." I lick your neck, making you shiver. "My *big* - *strong* - *beautiful* - *soldier*..."

Caressing your hair, I kiss you feverishly. Then my fingers tighten in your hair as I pull your head back.

"Take me to the bedroom," I order.



You're moving against me - definite interest there - my cock twinges with longing for you, trying to get out of its constraining material.

I can take it - I can take what? Are you going to bite me again? Why does that thought fill me with anticipation, rather than trepidation? I should have more time to regain my blood... though just a little won't hurt... but how much is just a little?

Never mind, you're licking me and calling me your big soldier and that switches off any thought that might have considered crossing my mind.

Then - my head pulled back - oh god this is it, you're going to bite me again -


An order.



I thought I wasn't good with orders.

I rebelled against them always - from my father, from army officers, from 'dominant' partners - I could never take them seriously. Who the fuck were they to order me, they were ignorant, stupid, weak, insignificant...

But you.

God, you.

No raising your voice. No artificiality. No roughness, no affection. Just a simple statement of what is going to happen. No hesitation - it's not even a consideration that I might say 'no' or 'walk yourself' or laugh.

So simple. So effective.

So fucking hot.

My arms wrap around your thighs and I stand up. You are so light... even in my current non-optimal state I carry you easily, walk you to the bedroom - this bedroom, so many memories... I've had sex with three different sides of you here, each one delicious... which one will I get now?



Ohhh, I love being carried by you. I feel like a feather in your arms...

You look at me, and I gesture with my head to put me down.

I begin to circle you slowly. "Strip," I say softly.

I watch as you swallow, and remove your clothing, tossing it the floor.

I hold out my arms. "Now strip me..."

You do, slowly pulling off my t-shirt. Then you kneel on the floor and pull off my trousers, while I lean on you for support. You look up at me, your hands skimming along my white boxer briefs. Your fingers tighten on the fabric, and you pull them down firmly. I look down at you, my hands on your shoulders.

And then we're both naked - me standing, you kneeling before me.

We could be a painting... we could absolutely be a painting...

"Sebastian," I breathe. "Kiss me..."



You’re circling me, like a predator deciding where to strike, and I feel my throat go dry.


My clothes go, as I stare into those eyes, god those eyes, so dark and deep... and I’m naked before you, with those eyes staring through me, stripping me even barer. I have never felt more vulnerable or more beautiful under a gaze.

Then I’m revealing your beauty - that pristine moonlight skin next to my marked and tanned one, like unveiling an alabaster statue for a private viewing, breathtaking...

Your trousers, those strong supple legs, with me kneeling before you, of course -

And then you are naked, and I am kneeling in front of you, and it’s like it’s always been like this; across time, across worlds, I will find you, you will find me, and you will order, and I will kneel, and the world will be in balance.

I look up into the black, black depths of your eyes, waiting for your next order.

Kiss me...

Do you want me to get up and kiss your mouth? Or do you want me to kiss the bit that I’ve just revealed? I don’t know - mild panic - I want to do everything absolutely right -



Why are you waiting? Why are you - panicking?


Like a knight before a King... you're waiting for my command.

You've already called me your prince... what would it take to become King?

The thought floods my mind - *crush the cabal*... and let the remaining cabals see what happens if they think to rise against Jim Moriarty.

My eyes flash, and yours widen as you see the unearthly glow.

"Sorry, darling! I just realized how much I want to destroy my enemies... thank you for helping me feel like myself again. Rise, my beautiful knight..."

Elegantly I extend my hand, and the painting comes to life.

As you rise to your feet, I smile adoringly up at you, and draw you to me.

"Plenty of time for razing my enemies later... tonight is for you and me." I murmur. "Now give me your sweet lips, Sebastian..."



Your eyes flash like a cat’s - wow - that’s stronger than I’ve seen them so far...

and you look angry - shit, I’ve messed up already...? No, it’s not with me - good.

You want my kiss on your lips... your soft, smooth, gentle lips...

Your eyes close, as do mine, and my hands move over your skin, so sleek, sliding over the perfect curves of your muscular back. Your chest touches mine and I moan...



The current moves through us again as we touch... as we kiss, as you moan...



My tongue slides into your mouth...

You open your lips to let me in...

The old adage about needing to invite vampires in crosses my mind...

My hands slide down your strong hard back, down your muscular arse...

I cup your cheeks, and pull you firmly against me.

I break off the kiss, and stare at you hard.

“On the bed. Facing the headboard. *Kneel*.”

You stare back at me, your lips parted.

I caress your cheek. “Now, Sebastian,” I whisper.



Your tongue in my mouth, sleek, moist, exploring its new territory...

Closeness - and a look - I nearly gasp; as it is I’m standing there staring at you open-mouthed, and another order is given.

I want to move, but am briefly incapable... I’m so trapped and lost in your gaze...

Now, Sebastian.

A mere whisper, but a cutting edge to it sharper than a razor -

it helps to jar me out of my stupor, and I move - it feels desolate to remove my hands from you, to stop looking into your eyes, but a shiver of pleasure moves through me as I imagine what you will do to me when you have me kneeling on your bed...

I get onto it, grasp the top of the headboard, that I’d been tied to so long ago - was that only two nights ago? - wait for you...



I stare at you as you follow my command... your broad shoulders, your powerful back, your beautiful arse...

I continue to stare as I pick up the discarded belts from the bedside table. I climb onto the bed. Place one hand on a post, loop the belt around, and tighten with a snap of stiff leather.

Repeat with the other hand. *Snap*.

I press my body against yours.

"I love seeing you like this..." I say softly into your ear. "Naked, trussed up... mine to do with as I please... But I'm going to need better equipment to do everything I want..."

I move back like quicksilver and whip your arse with a belt.

You groan, and I caress your reddening cheek.

I whip the other cheek.

This time, I bite it - not with fangs, but enough to hurt.

"*God*, Sebastian," I murmur. "You have the sexiest fucking body I've ever seen..."

I move back and study it. "It's a work of art... it just needs... a few more strokes..."

I don't go at full vampire speed, and I don't thrash as hard as I could... but I do leave you gasping and moaning.

And no human could do what I just did. Or what I'm about to do.

I press against you again, grasping your arse and licking your neck. "Mmm... you're all stripy... like my very own tiger..."

I slide my erection in between your arse cheeks and push against you.. "I'm going to fuck you like I own you, Tiger..." I breathe.



Again, I am tied to the headboard, your voice in my ear, whispering promises of possession - yours, of course I am yours, to do with as you please...

and what will be your pleasure? How will you use my body, tied and ready for you... so ready... I’m shivering with anticipation, longing for you, your touch, your pain, your words, your hunger...

I don’t have to wait long - you move like lightning and a line of fire burns into my skin. Inadvertently I pull on the belts, but the loops are solid, I’m securely secured...

The other cheek, followed by your teeth, sharp pain heightening my ecstasy; your words, approval, admiration...

exploding pain, everywhere, my back, my arse, my thighs; for a few crucial moments nothing else exists, just you and your pain, my nails digging into the wood of the headboard, my willpower forcing me to stay still and take it, my arousal swept up to incandescence by the fire on my skin...

And then you are on me, directly touching the fiery stripes, cooling them, calling me your tiger, saying you’ll fuck me like you own me, and I moan at those words, nearly come there and then - yes, you own me, of course you do...

“Please,” I pant. “Please, Sir, fuck me... of course you own me, your knight, your tiger, your anything - yours...”



I make a pleased purring sound, nuzzling the side of your face, rubbing my cock against you.

"Ohh, you're surrendering to me, then?" I murmur. "You have no idea how this pleases me, darling..."

*Ohhh!!* My very own Tiger...

*Down, Richard*... now is not the time for adorable bouncing and cuddling.

Now is the time for making this Tiger *yours* - after all, didn't he just offer you his leash in his teeth?

Jesus, that's hot. I really do need to order a few things...

I lean over to pick up the lube, and coat my cock with it before doing the same to your entrance.

"What does one do with one's very own Tiger?" I ask innocently, withdrawing my finger and replacing it with the head of my cock. "Ah - yes - "

I breathe, and push into you.

"I remember this from before..." pushing in deeper "It's all coming back to me... this amazing arse..." pushing in deeper still "You know if you're offering me your arse, I'm going to claim it..."

I reach around you, and grasp your cock. "And ohhh, this beautiful cock... the things it did to me... I'm claiming it, too..."

I slide my arm under yours and around your chest. "And this gorgeous powerful body... I'm claiming it now."

I am still for a moment, buried in you - my hand holding your cock, my arm holding you against me. I hear your breath catch in your throat, your heart pounding, the blood quickening in your veins...

"Sebastian... I claim you as my own."

I thrust into you, and stroke your cock.

"I claim every part of you..."

thrust, stroke

"I claim *all of you*..."

thrust, stroke

"*I claim you*..."

thrustthrust, strokestroke

"Mine, my *Tiger*..."

I moan loudly, and begin to plunge into you with abandon.



Of course I am surrendering to you... was there ever a question?

But... this is going deeper than a simple bedroom game, and both of us are aware...

I have no idea what we are entering into, but I am too far gone to care, I just want to be yours, your possession, your property, your toy...

You’re pushing into me, and fucking hell, how does that get hotter every time? Your cock is absolute perfection, feeling so good as it’s entering me, not hesitating, taking what you want, taking me, taking your pleasure from me...

And your words. They are -


Arse. Cock. Entire body.


Sebastian... I claim you as my own.

I moan softly, at those words more than at the thrust of your cock inside me.

Why does that sound so final? And why does it feel like the realization of all my dreams?

Me. Sebastian Moran. Player. Independent. Lover and leaver. Free. Wild. Invincible.

All these things.

Until I saw two jet black eyes and a lopsided grin...

But I could have never given myself to Richard like this. I adored Richard, and I could have fallen in love with him, but he was a sweet bunny, not someone I would have kneeled for, except perhaps to help him tie his shoes.

But Jim without Richard...

Yes, I’d have kneeled for him, would have let him fuck me, thrash me, would have loved it - but how could I have loved him, when that was all he was, hot and sexy, but without feeling?

I need both... I’m falling deeper for both than I could ever have done for either; I’m surrendering to Jim so completely because Richard stole my heart when he told me such sweet things...



I press my cheek into your hair. I breathe in your scent, musky and sweet.

I hear the Richard side of me moan.

My arm tightens around your chest, and I squeeze your nipples.

My other hand is stroking you firmly, but not too fast because it wouldn't do for you to come first and you're so turned on... Your groaning and gasping is increasing in frequency and volume. It's making me unbelievably horny to hear your sounds, how do you make such beautiful sounds Tiger, oh god, never stop...

Never stop...

My face is buried in your hair now.

Oh god, I want you so much...

For always. And I don't know what that means, just that I can't be without you...

Richard is swooning hard and crying out.

"Come with me, darling..." I moan.

I swipe my thumb over the head of your cock, and begin to stroke harder and faster.

"Come for me, Tiger..." I growl, and bite the back of your neck.



Yes, I'm coming, for you, of course, all for you...

The feeling is so intense, it's almost overwhelming - all my muscles contract, the belts creak, an animal groan leaves my throat as my eyes screw shut.

All I feel is you, you above me, inside me, around me, moving, touching, in perfect rhythm; your words - another command? The command to come? And how could I not, when it is your wish? And then I feel you filling me up further, spilling into me -

The bed shakes with the intensity of my shudders, my nails scratch gouges into the wood of the posts, as wave after wave of ecstasy pounds through my body, almost too much, almost - oh fuck - oh god - so good -

Sex has never been like this. It's been good, sure, but - this - this holistic sensation, where the entire body is involved as well as the mind and the heart and oh fuck, it's transcendent - world-shattering - I had no idea -




Yes yes *fuck yes*...

I pull you against me, against my thrusting cock.

"*FUCK*," I cry out.


I'm hurled over the edge into an orgasm so intense, it unleashes ungodly noises I've never heard before. My body is jerking against you, and I howl as I feel you shuddering against me, squeezing my cock as you come.

I lose all sense of time, space, everything...

I lose everything...

There is only dim awareness of *youyouyou*...

After a moment or an eternity, an aftershock moves through me and I find myself collapsed against you. Your breath is coming hard and fast.

"Tiger..." I whisper. "Fuck..."

I need to release you, I think dimly. Blinking, I pull out. And then I want to whimper at the loss of closeness. Fuck. With my head leaning on your damp back, I reach to each of your hands and release you from the restraints.

I fall against the pillows and you fall next to me a moment later.

We stare at each other, wide-eyed.



You are making as much noise as I am; that will teach the neighbour with the pounding house music...

Slowly I get back into my body from where I was floating, feel you collapsed on top of me, whispering 'Tiger...'

So that's my name now? I can live with that, I guess... I'd love to wear your stripes in perpetuity... growl at your enemies... roar out my climax when you fuck me like you own me...

You pull out, and it almost hurts - I want to feel you always...

You release my hands, and that too feels like a loss...

I want your restraints, I want your possession...

I collapse onto the pillow, feel my arms relaxing as they've been released, look at you -

Your eyes look huge. Black infinity stares back at me. I realize my eyes must look the same - my heart is racing and briefly I wonder why - what's happening...



And in an echo of Richard, I open my mouth -

"You... felt it too?"



Oh... god, yes.

Memories flood back to me of when it was Richard saying it. This time it's you...

Does this mean you're not hiding from this anymore? This *thing* between us, this charge, this bond...

"Yes, Sebastian... I felt it. I feel it. I never stopped feeling it."

Even when I was angry... Even when I wanted to kill you.

*Don't say that*.

But that's what made me so livid (*pain*)... that I could feel something like this, and you would deny it.

I touch your face lightly with my fingertips, kiss your lips.

It doesn't seem like you're inclined to deny it now...

I hope.



"Neither did I... I didn't walk away because I didn't feel it... I walked away because I did - and it scared me," I confess.

"I... I guess this is new and alien to both of us... You've never been in love before, I was, once, as a teenager, and... it didn't end well.

You're a vampire, who deep down wants to drain me of blood; I'm a human, who is deeply fucked up... I'm sorry...

I guess this is going to be a bit more difficult than 'men are from mars, women are from venus'...

But... there's something between you and me... that I couldn't walk away from. I tried, and - I was a shell. I was stuck in a world of grey without meaning. What is that, Jim? If it's not your vampire glamour, if you feel it too... what happened!?"



What is this story of love that didn't end well? It seems to cut you deeply. Should I be jealous?

Not right now, anyway... it has an air of tragedy about it, more than just lost love...

No, Jim. *Not now*.

I shrug helplessly. "I was hoping you would know... I don't know the first thing about love."

I touch your face again, this time leaving my hand on your cheek.

"It's like... something clicked? Or slid into place," I say slowly. "Like... there was a space. An empty space. Like a void... And then..." I stare at you intently. "There you were... and everything felt right for the very first time. *I* felt right. What is *that*, Sebastian?"



"Yes! That's exactly what it felt like!" I say, happy that you have put it into words, that you did feel exactly what I felt -

"All my life I've felt like - like I was searching for something, missing something... I was at school and I knew that wasn't what I was meant to do; then I went into the army, and that wasn't fulfilling either, so I joined the special forces, which demand that you give them everything, and then some - and it wasn't enough - and then I left to freelance, but that was even worse...

And then I saw you, and it was like - like the world had always been in black and white, and all of a sudden I realized that colour existed, and I'd never missed it before, but now I'd seen it, I couldn't imagine being satisfied with the world without it any more..."



"Yess..." I say, absorbed in thought. "I thought all I cared about was power, yes - money, yes - but really it was about being in an unassailable position where I could do whatever the fuck I wanted and nothing could ever hurt me again..."

(Oh. That was a little close, wasn't it? Stop dropping little hints about your past...)

"And I did it, and I still felt the same deep down. And anyway, it didn't amount to anything, because I still got hurt, didn't I? And then... you'd think if power, money, and not getting hurt were all that mattered, then being a vampire would be a bad-ass adventure. It wasn't. I felt worse than ever. Until one night..." I run my fingers down your arm. "One night... when everything changed..."

What is that feeling *now*? Am I feeling *shy*? God, if there's a softest vampire award, I'm sure to win this year, fangs down...



Your face as you're saying this - 'nothing could ever hurt me again' -

oh god Jim who hurt you?! What happened to make you create a situation where nothing could touch you?

My stomach contracts at the thought of anyone hurting you - I want to kill them -

not helpful, Sebastian...

And then you were the most powerful person I've ever met, and still felt bad...

And I made you feel better?


I'm feeling flushed at this, like it's too much, but then I did just tell you that you made colour appear in my world...

"It does sound like we're both fucked..." I smile.



I laugh. "Sounds like..."

I look at you slyly. "Such a shame... but I guess if we're fucked, then it doesn't matter what we do. Does that sound accurate, as someone who's deeply fucked up?"

I slide a leg over yours, lazily. "Really takes the pressure off, Sebastian... I feel *so* relieved..."



I pull you close, your head on my shoulder, kiss your hair.

"On the one hand, yeah... on the other, I've finally found something I care about enough that it makes my world appear in technicolour, and I want to keep it... so yeah, it doesn't matter what we do, but let's try to keep us both alive?"



I look up at you from your shoulder. You're so close... I like it.

And my heart is swelling at your words.

"The plan is to stay alive, then...?" I muse. "There's a thought! Sounds like madness, but - I'd do it for you." I smile at you, and slide my arm around your chest.

I have never felt so safe...



Oh - I guess you're not technically alive - but... you're alive enough for me. You don't seem upset by the word, anyway.

Damn. Here we are; Romeo and Juliet, Bella and Edward; despite being old enough to know better. Completely and utterly smitten and both willing to go the full drama boat of 'never felt this way', 'you complete me', and 'stay alive for you'.


I never would have considered myself the type - but going back on it, walking away from this, is inconceivable. And not only because you get homicidal if I hint at walking away...

I smile at you.

"We're like overdramatic teenagers in love, and it feels so right..." I purr, pulling you close.



I beam. "We do have a mad, hormone-addled, adolescent air about us... I like it."

I cuddle against you. "Don't get in our way, world! We were dangerous before..."

I kiss your lips possessively. "Now I'm feeling... scarier."

I feel a glint in my eyes. "Yes. Scarier."

My fingers run through your hair. "Not towards you, Sebastian - you know that, right? Hurting you would be... hurting myself. It would be... not good." I shiver and move even closer to you.



"I know..." I say, as I pull you close. You are so light, so beautiful, so volatile, so vulnerable... Awe and protectiveness war to be the primary emotion, which makes for a heady cocktail.

My eyes are getting heavy - not now, eyes...

But it is getting near dawn, and I am still recovering from the blood loss... and somehow I didn't get to drink that cup of coffee you made.

"I'm sorry, Jim, I'm getting really sleepy..."



Remembering, I cover my face with my hand. "I made you coffee and then I... oops." I bury my face in your neck. "Welll, I guess we'll just have to sleep, all cosy and snuggled up. Such a tragedy..."

I yawn. "I'll make you coffee tomorrow, and I'll even let you drink it... I'm just that sweet. Well, I am with *you*..." I kiss your face. "You made me sweet, Sebastian. I don't know how you did that..."



“I didn’t... you were already sweet... I just insisted that you were, that it wasn’t an act...” I mumble, now getting really tired. Seeing your sleepy cute face makes me smile.

You switch off the light. Dawn has appeared, creeping around the curtains. There’s something lovely about going to sleep when the rest of London is waking up... my sleeping and waking patterns have always been irregular, and I guess dating a creature of the night will make it more nocturnal... no problem...

I sink into blessed sleep, with a painfully cute vampire curled up on my shoulder. This is the first time I really notice that you don’t breathe - it’s not as disconcerting as I’d expected...

... and then I don’t think anything else any more as blackness engulfs me.



The last thing I remember thinking before falling asleep curled up against you is, *This* is what I want...

And then I fall forward into the black embrace of vampire sleep...

There are snippets of dreams...

Me making you coffee...

You making dinner, setting the table, pouring wine...

The scene shifts...

We’re in a dark old Victorian house at a long formal table.

It’s dusk... the French doors are open, and the curtains are windblown...

I’m in a Victorian suit, a top hat...

You’re wearing an elegant white shirt... your shirt is spattered with blood...

I mean to ask you about the blood, but you give me a glass of wine, and make a toast to long life. I drink deep, gazing at you...

My eyes flash then I leap across the table and drag you to the floor...

You don’t fight me, you merely moan and surrender to it... your fingers tightening in my hair...

Then I stand slowly, staring at your pale body on the floor.

My hand covers my mouth, and I weep red tears...

Then your eyes open... glowing white...

You rise with preternatural grace, and take my hand...

“My love,” you whisper. “At last we-“

I wake with a gasp.



I’m not used to having someone sleep beside me. Several times I wake up, unsure of where I am for a second, then remembering. The first time you are touching me, but the second you’ve moved away and you are so still - I startle when I touch your hand - oh yes, no, this is alright. He’s supposed to feel like that. I move to you and you do move when I pull you close, and I am relieved I have to admit - I know it’s silly, but I’m scared of losing you, alright?

The third time I wake it’s because you are gasping - I am wide awake immediately, reach for my gun - where’s my gun?! - shit, in my trousers - I dive towards them, am crouching next to the bed, my gun in hand, looking around for the danger -

You’re looking at me, puzzled.

Why are you puzzled?! You’re the one who gasped!



“What? What happened?” I demand, sitting up.

“You tell me! You gasped!” you shout.

“I had... a dream?” I say, perplexed. “If I have a nightmare, are you going to shoot me?”

“Fuck, Jim...” you pant, leaning against the bed, and lowering your gun.

“Put the gun down, and just come here...” I wave you over.

You come to bed, and I pull you towards me. Your heart rate is fast, which is to be expected... but evening out, also to be expected.

“Morning, Sebastian! My, there’s never a dull moment living with a killer! I mean, not living with... you know what I mean...” Strangely flustered, I look at the time. 1 o’clock in the afternoon. I often rise later, but I don’t think I can get back to sleep after... that dream. And anyway, I don’t want to waste any time. I have no idea how long you’ll be staying... will you have to go to work?

“How about that coffee I promised you last night? And I can make you breakfast... I wouldn’t mind some bacon...“

You’re staring at me, and I start to feel self-conscious. “Do you - need to leave today?” I blurt out.



Well. Ok. But I’m not used to people gasping beside me in the middle of the... afternoon, am I? The last time people gasped beside me when I was sleeping was in the army and then you very much wanted to get your gun out just in case they weren’t sneakily rubbing one off in their sleeping bag.

I snuggle up to you. It’s so good seeing you when I wake up... you look beautiful in the light that comes around the curtains, your eyes for once not black, but hazel, with little flecks of emerald...

... oh yes. Coffee.

Do I need to leave today?

... no, but I do have to text Demmings. And the client, I guess...

“I do have a potential client that I told I was ill... so I guess I have to get in touch with him, see if he still wants to meet... “



“OK...” I look at you for a long moment. If you leave, I suppose I can go find someone to eat.

If you leave, I’ll be sad...

If you leave, will you come back right away? Or... what then??

I want to scream... I *hate* not knowing everything already. I *hate* someone else holding sway over how I feel. I *hate*..

Oh... you’re kissing my hair. Snuggly Tiger... so sweet...

“If you go... I want you to come back...” I blurt.

Hello, Richard... you’ve decided to take over again, have you?

The Richard side of me sulks. Why play hard to get? I want him here, Jimmy...

Fuck... I really do...



Aw, my sweet needy vampire...

Hearing you say that fills me with love and delight... you really want me around...

Is that wise though?

Oh hi mum. What are you doing in my head?

Being the voice of reason. You sometimes need one. Demmings isn’t always around.

Great. I’ve survived so far without reason, so let me be yeah?

Sebastian. Do you really want to have a whirlwind romance with a vampire? A possessive, jealous vampire, who is prone to anger when you so much as hint at leaving? Is that healthy?

so sweet...

Sebastian. It’s not sweet. It’s dangerous. What if you fall out of love? Or even just want to go for a drink in the afternoon and he can’t come? What if he gets into a fit and kills you?

... he wouldn’t.

Oh, and how do you know? From all the time you’ve spent with him? All the experiences you’ve had with his behaviour?

Shut up.

Sebastian. You’ve never listened to me, but you are really in danger here. You’ve always had a sixth sense about danger. Here it is, warning you.

I’m not leaving him.

I’m not saying you should. Just don’t get too involved too soon, maybe? See each other occasionally, go on dates?


I look at you. Remember how I felt spending two days without you.

“Do you want to get married then?”

Chapter Text

Say you want me
Say you need me
Tear my heart out slow
And bleed me




Wait, *what* did you say?

I can barely hear over the combined white noise and sound of Richard shrieking at me.

I stare at you longingly and open-mouthed.

“Did you - just ask me -“

My mouth snaps shut, opens again.

“*Did you*??”

My hands have grasped your shoulders.

Then they slide around the back of your neck.

“You did,” I say softly.

One more eternal moment of gazing into your eyes.

“You’re insane. I love you. *Yes*.”




Oh I didn't mean to say that.

I was just riling up my mum.

Who isn't here.

And - well - you seemed so sweet and lost and needing me and...

You are freaking out.

Well, of course you are.

I'm being ridiculous.

I was joking - kind of –


You said yes?!


What -

oh come on


I start giggling.

Wait –


you said you love me!?


Of course you do - and I love you –


"Fuck it! Let's do it! Let's fly to Vegas and get married!!!" I laugh.



I can’t help but giggle when you start giggling.

“Vegas? Really??” I stare at you. “Well, they do have a crazy nightlife, don’t they... lots of drunk tourists...”

I grin at you. “Oh! Do you want to be married to James Moriarty? Or Richard Brook? I have both ID’s...”

I pounce on you, and knock you back onto the bed. I gaze down at you. “You have made me unbelievably happy. I swear I will never drink from you unless you say I can. I won’t take more than you want me to. And I won’t ever kill you, even if you leave. You have my word, Sebastian...”

I kiss you deeply and sigh. “I probably shouldn’t use those vows in front of the officiator, should I?” I grin.



I'm so giddy, I can't stop giggling, cuddling you, laughing - I've never felt this happy...

(Sebastian. You're being -)

Fuck off.

"You totally should. Those are some amazing vows. Eh, I don't think I can match that - let me think -

I swear I won't kill anyone you don't want me to kill. I swear I won't try to kill you. I swear I will try to kill anyone who wants to kill you. And I swear I will let you drink from me regularly.

Maybe also not the best vows to repeat in front of a registrar..." I giggle.

"I'll marry whichever you you want - if you're trying to hide, James Moriarty might not be the best ID to use, though it's totally the most badass name..."



“True... *Oh my god*. That means you’re marrying Richard...” I collapse against you, giggling helplessly. “Perfect. The one who won your heart...”

My laughter slows down. “Yes, I know he’s me... no one else could have done what you did, Sebastian. Drew out the hidden sweetness in a psychopath, and a vampire... you saved yourself, and you saved me with you.”

I reach out with a trembling hand to touch your face. And then I beam at you. “I like your vows, baby...”



"I love you, Jim..."

You've said it, I should say it as well - and we're getting married, so I should definitely say it...

My inner starry-eyed boy is clasping his heart at this - getting married to the most dreamy man I've ever seen...

There are other inner bits which want to file petitions, but I tell them I'm not a democracy and they can shut up.

I stroke your face, looking up at me, so happily...

"I think you saved me too, Jim... I don't know how much longer I could have kept searching..."



“No more searching... we can save each other...” I say softly, and lie down with my head against your chest. I gaze at your face, and then I take your hand in mine and kiss it. I stare at our clasped hands. My small white one in your big tanned one, with the scars and scrapes. “God, I want to know every inch of you... I want to hear the stories to each and every scar...”

I murmur. “Oh! Rings! Sebastian, we need rings!!”



My heart is pounding, it's never felt so light...

You are looking at me, kissing my hand - it makes me want to cry with happiness...

"I'm sure they sell rings in Vegas... We can get a night flight tonight - when we land, it will still be night - get a hotel, spend the day in bed, go to a chapel that does gay weddings - and we'll be Mr and Mr by tomorrow."

I've never been good at delayed gratification.



My eyes widen. “You want to leave tonight??”

I giggle into your chest. “This - is - so - ridiculous! All right! Off we go to Vegas tonight! I’d better book flights soon, considering it’s only a few hours away!”

I grin at you. “Do you still want coffee and breakfast, my *betrothed*?”



Betrothed!? OMG I'm your betrothed...

I inwardly swoon...

"Oh god we should invite my parents - dad will have an aneurysm -"

Probably best not. Though it would be fun to antagonize dad, mum may want to actually come and be disappointed if she can't make it, or ruin the fun if she can.

"Are your parents still around?"



My smile slowly crumbles.

If I had a living heart... it would crack.

“My mam is... dead.” I swallow hard. “She died a long time ago. My father... if I ever see him again, his death will follow swiftly. Please don’t ask me to tell you, Sebastian. It’s an ugly story, and... not one to tell on someone’s wedding day...”

I chew my lip. God... I thought becoming a vampire was supposed to make you numb to the pain of your human life. Why does this still affect me??

“Do you have a good relationship with your parents, Sebastian? Oh no, your father is Lord Moran, of all the fuckwits... you would want *him* there??”



Oh -

The moment I ask it, I realize that that is a stupid question to ask someone, if you don't know them very well... and it's not like you haven't hinted at a traumatized youth...

And indeed, your face clouds over - oh fuck, Sebastian, you no-brained big-mouthed idiot...

I wrap my arms around you.

"I'm sorry, Jim... I shouldn't have asked - I'm sorry.

No more stupid questions - you're right - it's our wedding day...

No, I don't want my father there. I just want him to hear that I'm marrying a man and have a homophobic fit, and hopefully a heart attack to go with it.

I don't want anyone there. Just you, and whoever needs to be there to do the ceremony. "

I hold you close, hope your happiness about the wedding returns... despite your foolish tiger ruining it...



“It’s fine... I’m fine. You didn’t know...” I say, trying to sound fine. My voice sounds more hollow than fine. Whatever. Get over it, Jim. You’re a vampire, for fuck’s sake... not a delicate little kitten. I wonder if my darling will want a cat. I want a beautiful husband who loves me and an adorable cat.

This perks me up, and I hug you. “Well, we can call him on the way to the airport, if you want to upset him, darling. Or if it will annoy you too much to talk to him... we’ll courier him a framed photo - us at the chapel, newly wed?” I snigger. “Make a wedding announcement in whichever paper he reads... in his name? ‘Lord Augustus Moron is weeping with joy over the nuptials of his darling gay son and his sexy Irish lover... he wishes them every happiness and hopes they’re buggering each other senseless on their honeymoon. To my new son-in-law, I’d like to say - shag my boy rotten!’ What do you think?”

I try to keep a straight face, and I last a full three seconds before dissolving into laughter until bloody tears are leaking from my eyes. “Oh god - I’m sorry, Sebastian-“



I'm crying with laughter, and so are you. It momentarily startles me to see the blood in your tears -

"You better not cry during the wedding ceremony... or we'll have to kill the registrar, and I'm not sure if that wouldn't invalidate the marriage..." I hiccup.

"Nah, he'd just give mum grief over it - did you know it was her soft and overindulgent upbringing that made me gay? Yeah, apparently that's what does it - I thought it was just an inborn fabulousness, but what do I know? I'm not a Lord... "



I snicker into my hand, as you wipe my eyes. “I’d better bring tissues, just in case... god, the things you have to think of for a vampire wedding...”

I think about what you said, and my mouth tightens. “Well, he’s a fecking gobshite, and he always will be. Do you want to be the next Lord Moran soon, my darling? That could be arranged...”



"Red kerchiefs, definitely..." I grin. "Oh - I don't have any suits on me - we'll have to drop by my apartment, I've got a nice one - not your 'generic bodyguard' suit, a tailored one. And I have a red tie - just need a red kerchief.

Don't worry about my dad. If I'd have wanted him dead, he would have been. As it is, I'm very fond of my grandmother - his mum. Much as she realizes he's a dick, she would still be very sad if he died. So he gets to live... for now."



“Oooh, red kerchiefs... you *do* have inborn fabulousness, honey...” I grin. “I’ll wear a suit that goes with a red kerchief as well. Maybe a black tie for me with red accents. Red rose boutonnières?” I stare off, picturing it. “God, we’re going to be *gooorgeous*. Are you sure we can’t take a photo for your father?” I roll my eyes.

I look over at you. “You and me against the world, darling?” I clasp your hand in mine, and press it against my chest.



"I have an inborn practicality," I grin. "If you're going to be wiping your tears with anything, it better be red or black.

And of course we're going to be gorgeous. You are gorgeous, and you wouldn't want to marry a husband who looks anything less..."

God, I'm floating - husband! I'm going to be a husband! I'm going to have a husband, and what a beautiful one -

Wait -

Hold on -

- till death do us part -

"Jim." I say.

Suddenly quiet. Serious.

Fuck. That's what I wasn't allowing myself to realize.



Suddenly the smile drops from your face, replaced by a look of pain. You say my name and nothing else.

"What's wrong, darling?"

You've grown pale. You open your mouth but no more words come out.


I stare at you, uncomprehendingly. Your hand is still clasped in mine. Why are you acting this way-

What could *possibly* upset you at this moment?

Deduce, Jim...

I don't think I want to... *NO*...



"Jim - I... " Fuck.

"I love you. And I want to marry you. And I know you want to marry me. Rash though it may be, and I know there are probably like a thousand reasons why we shouldn't do this, and I shouldn't think of them, but -

Marriage is till death do us part, yeah? And you're - not going to die. That's just going to be me. Which is fine if I'm dying soon - but if I don't - I'm already seven years older than you, and that's only going to get more. If I grow old - you'll be a 25-year old with a 60-year-old husband.

You won't want that...."

I swallow.




I feel a prickle of tears in my eyes.

"So. One more good thing about being a vampire..." I say, my voice bitter. I feel a single tear hit my cheek and it feels like a burning slap. "When you find the One, the man you've always been looking for, without even knowing it... the man you love, who loves you, who is sweet and beautiful and..." I choke back a sob. "...wants to protect you. Only - he can't protect you from the truth. That you're an aberration of nature. And that means you can only be with another aberration. Only you *don't want any of them*..."

Tears are flowing freely down my cheeks now, and I swipe at them angrily.

"I've never met a vampire I've wanted to *be with*... I've never met *anyone* I wanted to be with! Only you!"

I feel your hand starting to slip from my grasp, and I seize it, and hold it against my lips.

"I will want you no matter what," I say fervently. "No matter how old you are, no matter how you look... I want *you*, Sebastian!"



"Jim! You're not an aberration of nature! You're beautiful and smart and - you're like one step ahead on the evolutionary ladder! And - I do want to be with you - always. I just - didn't think you'd want that... "

I kiss your cheeks, taste your tears - salty, but with an iron tang of blood in them.

I just want you... I just want you to be happy... and I want to be with you, always.... if you do change your mind, we'll deal with that when the time comes. Hell, I might change my mind - I can't imagine it, but neither can any couple who get married and divorce later. For now - for now, let's just seize the day... well, night - and be unimaginably unrestrainedly irrationally happy for a bit.

"Jim - if you want me - fuck, I want you. So much. Let's do this. Let's be crazy and get married and get thrown out of three Vegas hotels for wrecking the place and keeping up the neighbours."

I look at you, hopefully. The back of my mind is nagging still, but I tell it to shut up. I haven't been carefree and happy since David.

I so, so desperately want to be carefree and happy... even if it's only for a week.



I look at you and wipe at my eyes again. You reach for a tissue and hand it to me - which almost makes me start crying again, but fuck it, this is meant to be a happy occasion. I dab at the corners and my cheeks, and the tissue comes away a light red. I throw it at the nightstand.

"I *want* you... I *do*." I press my head against yours, breathing in your scent.

"I *want* to go on this mad adventure with you... I don't just mean having a Vegas wedding like a pair of idiots. I mean, the rest of it. What comes after the honeymoon. (Oh! Honeymoon...) Being with you, experiencing the world with you. Things like this don't happen to people very often, I think... so how stupid would we be to *not* jump on it?" I take your face in my hands, and stare at you intently.

"So if you have any fears left, tell them to shut the fuck up. I already gave you my answer. You're marrying me."

A smile plays on my lips. "I didn't mean it to sound threatening... I'll try to watch that, but it's a lifelong habit..."



"Oh you can threaten me all you like... it's kind of hot," I admit, kissing your jaw.

"You know - I've always been bigger, stronger, quicker than other people. To not be that, for once - well, I'm bigger, ok - but yeah. It's hot to have a lover who could hold me down with one hand," I grin.

"But if I had any qualms about marrying you, I'd tell you, don't worry. And I don't.

Right - we better get moving - you promised me breakfast, we need to book flights, and I want a last illegitimate fuck..."



God, I've been so careful around you since you came back... I wanted to know you could trust me not to lose control.

I didn't want you to leave again.

But I've also been holding myself back.

Mmm. My Sebastian, unafraid of the dark side...

who willingly came back to the vampire who nearly drained him...

and still offered up his blood (in reasonable amounts).

I won't do it now, but... maybe on our wedding night?

My vampire nature makes itself known in a flurry of beating wings and snarling, throwing myself against my self-created cage.

*Soon, honey*... I coo. Not as much as last time... but you can have a *little*...

"Oh, I can threaten you all I like...?" I give you a feral smile. "I will take you up on that, my darling... and hold you down, too."

I kiss you fiercely, leaving you gasping. "But there will be plenty of time to explore the dark side, Tiger... for now, breakfast, travel arrangements, fucking. Yes?" I kiss you again, and when we pull apart, the desire between us is taut, like a viper ready to strike.

"Right. I promised you breakfast. So you book a gay chapel and the hotel, and look up flights... my laptop is on the kitchen table."

I get up, extend my hand and pull you to standing. We stare at each other, not moving.

"Come, Sebastian..." I say playfully, pulling you behind me as I walk. "it'll be that much sweeter with the wait..."



"Do I look like I'm good at waiting?" I complain, but obediently follow you out - I want you, fuck yes, but I always want you, and we should book flights sooner rather than later.

We have a quick shower, manage to keep our hands on each other mostly functional, then head to the kitchen.

You unlock your laptop for me and I go online. Flight Heathrow to Vegas, leaving at 10:40 pm, landing at 1:30 am, perfect. There's a Gay Wedding Chapel in Vegas, which sounds good, and which offers different packages - we look through them, laugh at the Gothic and Graveyard options, but settle on the Night Time Garden package, which looks lovely, and will be the perfect temperature this time of year.

Giggling, you feed me bacon as we fill in the Marriage Licence Application -

"Do we want to change our names? Do you want to become Richard Moran?"



I am *so* enjoying cooking you breakfast, even though it seems more natural for me to be behind the laptop and you to be manning the stove. While bacon is sizzling away and eggs are frying, I'm popping by the table to give you orange juice, kiss you sweetly, and look at the options you want to show me. I'm delighted that we'll be outside in a garden. I was apprehensive about how tacky the chapel might be. But in the photos, it seems picturesque enough, and anyway, I just care that you'll be the one opposite me in your black tailored suit with red kerchief in case I cry...

After sliding toast into the toaster and starting up the coffee maker, I bring a plate of bacon and sit on your lap so I can tell you what to fill in for me on the marriage license. As I'm feeding you bacon and laughing away, you ask me if I want to change my name.

I blink. Change my name? Really? Yet another thing I never considered the possibility of. Especially as a vampire... 'If I ever meet the man of my dreams, will I change my name? Maybe hyphenate?'

"Really? You don't like Sebastian Brook?" I tease.

By the look on your face, clearly you don't. I roll my eyes, then wrap my arms around you.

"Richard is thrilled at the prospect of taking your name..." I say drily, and grin. "You've made him the happiest vampire ever."




Oh god that is so sweet -

I kiss you with my greasy bacon mouth.

"I would love to be Sebastian Moriarty, but much as I love Richard, I don't want to take the name of your alter ego. But Richard Moran... sounds dreamy..."

I fill in the form - Richard Aidan Brook and Sebastian Patrick Moran want to get married and henceforth be known as Mr and Mr Moran...

I'm pretty sure hearts are flying around my head cartoon-style.

Oh. They want our parents' information. Why? I scowl, fill in my info.

"Do you have - your parents' details?"

I move the laptop over to you, so you can fill it in without me looking over your shoulder. I tuck into my breakfast, hoping this won't ruin your mood.



"We'll be the Morans..." I nuzzle your cheek. "That *is* dreamy..."

Giddiness surges through me, making it hard to keep still. Jesus... Richard, calm the fuck down.

*Yes*, you're getting married to the hottest man you've ever seen, and taking his name...

Where was I going with this? Never mind, if you can't swoon on your wedding day...

You go ahead and swoon all you like, Richard darling.

Then I'm tasked with filling out my parent's information. Well luckily, Jim Moriarty is a criminal mastermind and does not stop short when it comes to identification. I have legal names for the sweet, doting parents of Richard Brook, and a file of documents should I ever need them.

I finish with a flourish. "Done." I kiss you before I stab your bacon with a fork, stuff it in my mouth, and wash it down with sweet coffee.

"Mmm. It's nice to eat again... my appetite is being revived for all sort of things..." I say innocently.



You seem not too fazed by the parents thing - oh - of course, they're Richard's parents. I feel relief as you turn the laptop back to me and I send off the application.

"We can pick up our licence any time before midnight tomorrow - we need to go together, with our IDs - and then pick out rings, and make sure we are at the chapel for our 2:30 wedding ceremony - they provide the witnesses as well, so I think that is all we have to worry about?"



"Seems like... I don't get married in Vegas very often, so I'm not really up on the preparations. But I think they take care of everything else. So we just have to pack, and - oh, your things are at your place." I wrap my legs around your waist and start kissing your neck. "Do you want to get them on the way to the airport? I'll arrange a car for us," I murmur. "Don't forget your passport, Tiger..."



"Which one?" I smile, then laugh at your miffed expression. "Oh don't worry, you're getting to marry the real deal - I really am Sebastian Moran, and I shall be marrying you as Sebastian Moran, not as Ferdinand Lambert or Ashton Fox."

I'm really enjoying this vampire on my lap. Especially with the kisses and the biting of the earlobe...

"So, now we've taken care of the breakfast and the arrangements... I believe we have, oh - sixish hours left for the probably not last illegitimate fuck... "

I get up, move to the bedroom, with my fiancé (!!) in my arms.

"I've never had sex with an engaged man before..." I whisper. (No, wait - there was that one guy - oh fuck it. I've never had sex with a man who was engaged to me before.) "And we better hurry, because he is going to be a married man soon..."



I launch myself at your lips as you carry me and we're kissing so intensely that you walk us into a wall - and then a door frame.

"Ow," I say mildly, as my head hits the doorway.

"Sorry, bunny," you breathe, caressing my head. Which make me swoon so hard - what vampire in the history of vampire-kind has been caressed so sweetly and called a bunny?? Just *this one*.

"You - " I say between kisses. "Are so - " kiss "ridiculous - " kisskiss "I'm a vicious bloodsucking fiend, not a sweet little bunny," I say sternly.

"Well..." I relent as we stumble blindly towards the bed, kissing feverishly. "Maybe a - sweet bloodsucking bunny, or - a vicious little bunny. Tiger's choice," I gasp as we tumble to the edge of the mattress and almost fall to the floor.



"The killer rabbit of Caerbannog?" I grin, dumping you onto the bed - mostly - managing to twist us fast enough that I don't drop my husband-to-be. Instead I am now lying on my back, a grinning bunny vampire leaning over me.

"So I'm your Tiger now, am I, my bunny? Does that mean I will always carry your stripes? Because I can live with that..." I growl.


I roll us over, bite your neck. "But doesn't the Tiger usually devour the bunny?"

You moan, and I take that as encouragement, suck your neck, bite again.

"You got your Tiger on a leash, you know that... and I'm more than happy to be on that leash... god, I love it," I breathe into your ear. "But our first time, when the Tiger took the bunny... I believe that was enjoyed, wasn't it?"



"*Yes*, you're my Tiger, and *yes*, you'll be my stripy darling..." I murmur, as you kiss and bite my neck, my jaw, my lips...

"And I love having you on a leash, Sebastian... this is going to be an *intense* honeymoon; you may need to get some vitamin and mineral supplements..." I grin. My hands trail down your chest as your tongue moves along my neck. "I loved it when you fucked me... it's one of the most beautiful, hottest things I've ever experienced. Do you want to fuck your bunny again, Tiger?" I ask breathlessly, and draw your lips to mine.



"I do..." I growl against your ear, and am pleased to see that the gooseflesh reflex is alive and well in vampires.

"I would love to fuck you... without a condom now, feel you skin against skin... make you moan again, come again, without you playing a role... just seeing you, enjoying my cock... god, I'd love that..."

You moan as I bite your earlobe, kiss, lick, suck, bite your neck - that beautiful neck - then move further down, your muscular chest, your nipples, your belly, your abdomen... your gorgeous cock...

I scramble for the lube, find it on the nightstand, keep licking you as I press some onto my finger and start gently massaging you with it.



"God yes, Tiger... fuck me skin to skin, let me *feel* you..." I groan as you lick and bite me. "It'll be all me this time, honey..."

And then your mouth is on my cock, and your lubed up finger is inside me, and I'm moaning softly at the sensation.

I think back to three nights ago when we met - it feels like an eternity ago. As Richard, I was so smitten with you, but it feels like I was experiencing you through such a specific lens... still, it would have blown my sweet bunny mind to think of us declaring our love and deciding to get married like this.

I let out a low moan. "Fuck, you feel so good, Tiger..."



How can you be so sweet? It tugs at my heart in a funny way - almost like it makes me want to cry, but I’m happy - but also sad - Jesus, this love thing is potent.

Most of all, I want to be really close to you, and I am, can’t really get much closer, with my tongue on your cock and my finger in your arse, but I want more, I want to be inside you, and I will, soon... my beautiful prince who no longer is Richard, who’s become this sweet side of vampire Jim, dangerous, authoritative Jim, who can be so cute and small and vulnerable... and make my heart swell...

My heart is not the only swollen body part though... God, I want you, my bunny, my vampire, my betrothed...

I rub some lube on myself and move up, folding your legs around my arms as I go, opening you up for me...

“My fiancé... my love...” I look into your large black eyes as I carefully push.



I never wanted to be 'taken' - as a human or as a vampire. As Richard, I made an exception - but only with you. Now I'm me... and I have a brief flash of apprehension as you're gazing at me... no one has ever seen what you've seen.

But I remember what it was like to feel locked away from everyone and everything... Hostile. Unsafe. Furious.

Being with you feels nothing like that... you're gazing at me with intense desire and affection. I remember Richard saying he wanted to be adored...

So it must be what I wanted deep down.

I think I got my wish...

You're pushing into me gently. I know I'm tight, Tiger - but I *want* you...

I grasp your sacrum, raise my hips towards yours, and push against you. I feel you move deeper into me, making us both groan. I feel you moving experimentally, and my muscles adjusting, squeezing you, opening to you...

My eyelids flutter shut. "Oh... Sebastian..."



You are pushing, careful, my dear, you are so tight... Oh god this feels so -


Absolutely great, but odd. First of all without the condom, something I haven't done since Stiles, and second - normally this would feel very hot, in the temperature sense of the word. I didn't notice it the first time because I was still under the 'this is a perfectly normal human honestly'-charm, but now, it's noticeable that you are - not cold, but not hot either. It's definitely not unpleasant, just - something to get used to.

I do hope I get the chance to get used to this... because it is sublime. Slowly I'm pushing in you, you are pushing onto me, and your eyes - god - is it just you? Or is this something that happens when you're in love, and you think your partner's eyes are the universe? No, it has to be you - I have never seen eyes like that. So dark even in the half-light of day coming round the curtains, so many expressions in their depth - trepidation, a little... past hurt... desire and hunger... and mostly love, so much love...

My heart clenches - what did I ever do to deserve this? What did I do?! Just - pick up a guy in a club, go home with him, shag him, have a chat, be attacked by him, but not killed - how does that spell instant passionate love?!

I balance on my left arm, stroke your cheek with my right hand... you are looking eternal, infinite, I could see the birth and death of the universe in your eyes if I looked carefully...

I am completely surrounded by you now. I could cry with the sensation of being inside you, being so close to you...

I lean over, kiss your soft lips, which open slightly when I approach -

"I love you..."



“I love you too, Sebastian...” I murmur, and kiss you back.

Oh god, my feelings are growing deeper, what am I going to do?

I mean... that’s *good*, considering we’re about to get married like a couple of mad, romantic fools.

But... I’m not sure I put your fears to rest about the not-ageing thing.

I can’t do this - this love, this getting married, if I don’t feel safe... can’t let my feelings out into a container that won’t hold them, that may crack... because what will happen to me then? But looking into your eyes, I see none of the fear from before...

I am loved, I am adored...

You’re so deep inside me, oh god, you feel so good...

I meet your hips with each thrust, groaning with pleasure...

You take my wrists and press them down over my head.

Fuck... so hot... I *want* to feel held down by you....

I should ask you to restrain me sometime... and I’ll try very hard not to break my bonds.



You are looking at me with such awe, such intensity... I'm drowning inside you, like I was that first time...

My Jim...

My Jim?

I take your left wrist in my right hand, push it down... Your eyes grow darker, more intense, as you stare up at me... Your right wrist...

Your eyes briefly close, your head moves back as you softly groan... oh, you are into this, are you, my bunny?

It's heady to hold someone down that you know could throw you off with a flick of his wrist… knowing that you want to be held down by me...

Oh god we're going to have such an amazing honeymoon... I can't wait to try out everything imaginable with you... and a few things unimaginable, perhaps?

I'm moving slowly, and you look - oh god you are the most beautiful sight I've ever seen, your mouth slightly open, your eyes dark and wide - this connection we have, it's just getting deeper, stronger, with everything we do - and it's tearing at my heart -

You feel so good, and you are so hot; my entire body feels electrified, on fire, my heart is pounding, my cock is throbbing, I just want you, closer, more -

I start moving faster, and you're groaning, your eyes close, your face wrinkles - how can a face wrinkling be the most erotic sight I've ever seen?! - your fangs grow again, a little - so it is an involuntary reaction? - but you seem to realize that you're doing it, close your mouth, lick your lips, and they're gone.

I'm moving faster, I want to touch you as well, but no, I got you so perfectly now, I want to keep you... I'll do you afterwards...



It's funny how being held down by you makes me want different things... part of me wants to be growled at and totally pinned down by your muscular body (Hi, Richard!) and part of me wants to slam you down and sink my teeth in your throat (Hi, Vampire!)...

(Ooops, got a little too excited there... put the fangs away, sweetie!)

and as for the totality of Jim... well, I'm curious. And smitten. And horny. And I want to experience so much with you.

Now your pace is increasing, and my cock is so hard...

your thrusting is *so hot*, fuuuck...

"Oh god, Sebastian... fuck me *hard*," I moan loudly, throwing my head back.



Oh god, yes, can do, can do very much - you are so achingly beautiful, your voice just makes me fall to pieces, that Irish lilt makes my eardrums into erogenous zones, sending thrills all through my body...

I am moving faster now, I am properly fucking you, fucking the most beautiful man I've ever seen, the most fascinating, interesting creature I've ever laid eyes on, and he wants to marry me, and I suggested it, and we must be crazy, but fuck it, grab happiness by the balls where you find it, because you'll be dead tomorrow and then you'll be sad you never had it...

You want to be fucked hard, bunny? I'll give you fucked hard - I'm pounding into you, you're groaning, which sends an electric current from my ears to my balls, my fingers tighten around your wrists - don't bruise him - I bend down, bite your neck - you kind of had that coming, my love - and hear your groan near my ear and that is it, I can't hold back any longer, I am hurtling headlong into orgasm, inside you, holding you, hearing your moans, groans, gasps - oh god -

"Jim - oh god Jim - Oh fuck, fuck, I love you, Jim - oh GOD..."

So good. So good. Oh god I can't - I can't bear this, it's too intense oh god Jim...



Oh sweet Jesus, I bagged myself the hottest fucking man in London... England... the universe...

and I already know I'm the hottest vampire, and vampires are the most seductive beings on earth, as it is. Oh, darling... you really do make me feel more like myself...

I'm staring up through half-closed eyes as you fuck me like the sexy motherfucker you are.

You fuck me and hold me down and bite me, fuck *yes*, I'm your bunny and I love your cock inside me and I love you slamming into me, oh *god*, you're coming and I hear you fucking roar and it's just the hottest thing ever...





Oh fuuuuuck.... god, is this the best orgasm ever?! It’s certainly in the top three. With the other ones I’ve had with you...

But fuck, fucking you feels good...

I pant, holding myself up on trembling arms, looking at your face... such an intense look; pleased, aroused, satisfied, possessive, hungry - not in the blood sense, I think - I hope - but in the ‘I really really liked that and now I really really want more’ sense.

I lower myself down, kiss you; you kiss back passionately -

I move onto my side, sliding out of you with a slight feeling of loss, then move down, moving your legs back, turning you on your side, and take that magnificent cock in my mouth. I’m not quite ready to balance on my arms again - I’m still trembling with the intensity - but this way I can lick and suck you without holding myself up.

My cock gives an aftershudder - yes, that was... quite something.



OH GOD, you’re good at this...

you’re really fucking good at this...

(How did he get good at this...? *Shut up*, you moron... *not now*.)

The way you tease.... the way you look up at me like you want to devour me....

Your mouth is *fucking magic*.

I’m groaning under your attention to my cock which is unprecedented - like you’re going to make a lifelong study of it, and you realize how far behind you are, and you need to devote yourself wholly to your work.

“God, Sebastian... *fuck*...” I say hoarsely, and my hands float to your head.

My fingers twist in your hair, and I start to shiver and moan.



Oooh, I like fingers in my hair...

One, because it's hot, and two, because it helps me to find the perfect rhythm for you, my lovely fiancé.

Soon I have you bucking, groaning, moaning my name... did I hear the word 'mine' there? Oh yes, my darling, I am, I so am...

I'm starting to get aroused again, with the sounds you make, the movements... my cock is still knocked out, but my brain definitely is not - you are so incredibly sexy... how on earth did I manage to get the sexiest man in London to fall for me? And as by miracle find that the sexiest man in London is also the only man I could fall for? Is there a god of vampires and assassins that we owe a sacrifice to?

You shiver, moan some incoherent words that I think feature Sebastian and mine, your fingers tighten in my hair as you push inside me, deep, deeper - that's alright, I can take you -

and then I'm rewarded with your seed in my mouth, again, and again I feel so proud, so proud of the sounds you make, the shivers, the thrusts... I did that. I made the sexiest man in London mewl like a kitten...

I softly lick and suck you until you whine, and then slowly move up. I can feel a massive grin on my face.



“Oh... Tiger...” I say in a ragged voice, and clear my throat. “You are...” I shake my head. “Fucking amazing is what you are!”

I slide my arms around you and rest my head on your chest. “And fortunate is what I am to have found you... “

I kiss your lips, and feel bliss stream through me.

“What do you think - dumb luck? Or fate?” I ask lazily, and interlace my fingers with yours.

“Actually, I’ve never believed in anything but myself...” I say slowly. “But purely by chance? I don’t know anymore...”



Your kiss is everything no kiss has ever been. Your lips are so fine, so soft, so velvety, the mere brush of them against mine is a delight; and when there is a bit more pressure, deliberation, it's all I can do not to swoon...

"Dumb luck or fate?" I chuckle. "I most certainly have never believed in any agents of fortune... many soldiers do, or have a lucky charm, or a special ritual, or whatever... I never bothered. But I do agree that we are exceptionally lucky... Tell you what, if the deity who brought us together sends us their business card, I'll be the most dedicated devotee ever. Until then, I suspect that the higher power who brought us together is right here in this bed... didn't you say that you saw me before, Richard Brook?"



Delighted, I give you my most innocent expression. "I did see you, Sebastian... but I could never have approached you. I'm far too shy..."

I shrug sweetly. "I guess it was chance, after all. If I hadn't stumbled like a hapless dolt... spilled my drink all over that lovely girl..."

Slowly Richard's contrite expression slides off my face to reveal the vampire Moriarty underneath.

"Oh, I *saw* you all right, Sebastian... I wanted you from the moment I set eyes on you. But I didn't approach you... and it wasn't because of whatever conceited, inelegant twit was throwing themselves at you that evening. Really, Sebastian - you showed no discernment whatsoever!" I growl, and roll my eyes mightily. "Something stopped me. I thought I was biding my time until I saw you again... but it happened twice. And then... "

My regular expression returns - the one belonging to Jim, both a vampire and completely smitten. "And then... I met the man of my dreams. And Richard Brook won't be himself for much longer... he'll be Richard Moran by tomorrow."

The dreamy Richardesque expression on my face is not intentional. I sigh. "God, are there stars in my eyes?" I say, self-consciously smiling and looking away. "You've ruined a perfectly good vampire psychopath."



“I doubt that... I think I’m causing a perfectly good vampire psychopath to bloom into the magnificent creature he is - not that you weren’t magnificent before, but who can beat having a Tiger familiar? Do vampires have familiars? Or should I be an Igor? ‘Yes, master...’ or was that Renfield? Damn, I have so much to learn...” I pull you close, nuzzle your hair.

“So - you said something stopped you from approaching me, twice? What was that?”



I feel like preening at *magnificent creature*.

“Well, I’m no Dr. Frankenstein, so I don’t need an Igor. And I haven’t killed any Romanian peasants that I know of... so I don’t need a creepy Renfield. Vampires do have people who act as guardians and servants to them and they’re called either familiars or thralls... I have employees who take care of things for me... so you can protect me as my Tiger... You don’t need to be under a thrall for that...” I kiss your lips.

“What stopped me? I have no idea... just a feeling. Like - you were too beautiful to end your life. I enjoyed seeing you alive... Although not so much making the moves on the inelegant twits. I guess temptation got the best of me in the end... or I couldn’t stand seeing someone else’s paws on you again.” I roll my eyes.



Oh yes, I was mixing up my gothic novel characters...

"I apologize for my poor taste in sexual partners," I grin. "If I would have seen you, I wouldn't have settled for those second-rate individuals, I assure you... but you kept yourself well-hidden.

But - you say vampires have people who act as guardians? What do they need protection from? And how could people provide protection that they couldn't provide themselves? They are faster, stronger, more unstoppable... what do these guardians do?"



"Well, I'm glad to hear you acknowledge it," I say, slightly mollified. *Second*-rate? *Hah*.

"Well... vampires aren't as strong during the day... and when they're sleeping they're vulnerable... so they need protecting from vampire hunters, which are few and far between but they do exist, and other vampires. Vampires are all about vendetta this, blood-vengeance that... so sometimes they attack each other, or send vampire-hunter-mercenaries after them... kind of like contract killers for the undead, darling!" I kiss you sweetly. "The thralls and familiars are made stronger with vampire blood... I've managed fine without one. I've kept under their radar mostly... I've had a *few* unpleasant run-ins, but I survived them." I shrug. "I'm a survivor. And I don't like to be cornered, as some vampires have discovered..."



"I have to admit I've never been contracted to kill any undead, that I'm aware of... I think I might have questioned the methods. 'But why do you insist I get up to his coffin bed and drive a stake through his heart when I could just shoot him?'

But yeah... I'm alert when I sleep - as you noticed earlier. I'm sorry," I grin.

"What's the deal with vampire blood?"



"Vampire blood... makes humans stronger. But it has an addictive, intoxicating quality to it, like a drug. So the more frequently you ingest it, the more you're in danger of becoming addicted to it. It only turns people into vampires if they've been drained, and they drink enough of it..." I trail off. I've been growing more apprehensive telling you about this, and I don't know why...




"It sounds like that is something I could use, then... if you don't mind. I mean, if it makes me stronger... and if it's addictive, that's no issue, since we're getting bloody married," I grin.

You're not smiling.

Why are you not smiling?



“Because if you drink too much, you’ll be enthralled!” I protest. “God... I’m a creature of darkness, remember? Don’t you think there’s a part of me who wants you to be under my spell? if you want a tiny bit, here and there, for strength, we have to be careful... you can’t drink it just for pleasure, because...” I smile wickedly, despite my fears. “Because... you’ll like it too much. And I won’t be able to say no.” My lips quirk. “I’m not going to lie... the thought is fucking hot...”



OK... I still fail to see the problem.

"I'm enthralled anyway, but we humans call it falling in love. And you're just as enthralled, right? So...”


hold on...

“... wait..."

I think I see what you mean. I love the idea of you being in love with me. If I had any suspicion that that wasn't being in love, but was instead the effect of some substance you'd ingested... I would hate that. I would try to get you away from the substance, to test that if you were completely uninfluenced, you would still choose to be with me.

"I see, I think...

I mean, I am enthralled by you, but it's you. Not your blood, not your vampiric magic, just - you. And - I can see that part of you would want to use your vampiric powers to keep me under your spell, but - I can also see that you would not want that, that you would want me to choose this. Because - isn't it much hotter when someone is completely enchanted by you without you using any sorcery?"



“Yes, completely... and I’m probably being overly cautious, because I don’t want you to be under any sway except *mine*. Thralls are created by giving them blood every day, and then taking away their supply at times to keep them hungry for it. However, if you were to have a small amount let’s say, every week or so... that would boost your strength and healing, without making you addicted. It would be like having a few drinks on the weekend, as opposed to a bottle a day. It’s up to you if you want to try it. But I won’t let you have more than I think is safe...” I say sternly. “I like your desire too much... and I’m too much of a narcissist to want you addicted to anything but me.”



“Don’t worry - I get it. I guess I’d like to try it - would like to see the effect, and, to be honest, you owe me,” I grin. “But I don’t want to be addicted to anything but the chemicals in my own head that are released when I see you - and they’re intoxicating enough...”

I lie back onto the pillows.

“I guess we should get packing at some point...” I say, blissed out thinking of the reason for our imminent departure. “How long do you want to stay? I have a job next week, so I’ll have to be back by then, but I can stay up to six days, if you like - have a bit of a honeymoon in sin city? I’ll have to go by my place first - do you need to pick anything up from your penthouse?”



“I’ll give you only as much as is safe... promise. And actually, I could give you some next time I-“ My eyes widen. “I mean if you want me to... it would you help you recover quickly from... sexy blood loss,” I grin, rolling my eyes.

“Yes, I need to pack a few things, too - so we should get going... Six days is more than enough for Vegas... although I suppose we could go out to the desert to get away from the crowds. I’d like to see a desert... I’d have to go close to dusk, but the stars would be beautiful.

Or if we’ve had enough of Vegas, we could go somewhere else... six days? What job do you have?” I ask slowly.



I don't share that information - but - you're about to be my husband -

"I don't normally share info on clients... but I guess, if I'm about to shoot one of your guys, I'd better cancel," I grin.

"I was hired by a guy called Simon Alder; I've done work for him before. He wants me to get rid of a drug dealer called John Harrison - mostly known as the Hairy Biker. You know either of them?"



I draw up data from my mind map that I've received this week, and quickly scan the information. I laugh. "Of course I do. Simon is my employee. Mr Harrison is a client's nemesis. Which makes *you*-" I kiss your lips which are parted in surprise, "-*my* talented assassin. Pleased to meet you, Mr Fox..." I whisper in your ear.



"Ha!" I exclaim in surprise. "You're Alder's boss?! Well, what do you know... so, my job is for you then, my vampire overlord..." I grin, kiss your hand.



"Vampire overlord? Ooooh, I like that..." I accept your kiss graciously. "And you're the wily, mysterious Fox everyone natters on about. I meant to do more recon on you, but then... I died and came back. It changes the to-do list somewhat..." I stare at you intently. "You realize the moment I learned more about you, I'd have been... curious. And when I get curious... well, let's just say we would have met one way or another, Ashton Fox..."



"I must say I appreciate the way we met - dancing together in a club is a much better story to tell the grandkids than he told me to shoot people and I did..." I smile. "So you used to be more personally involved in your organization, where now you're just kind of - keeping an eye on things, but not really participating? I have to say, from what I've seen, it's tight. I assume Mo Dahab is one of your guys too? Ion Popescu?"



"Yes and yes. Well, thank you for noticing my fine work, darling..." I beam at you. "I like to think I did spectacularly well given the time I had. I wasn't quite ready to give it up, even when I was in a bad way. Besides, vampires need resources to live well. Otherwise, they're little better than rats, scrabbling for every meal, and sleeping in abandoned buildings." My lip curls in distaste. "I appreciate comfort, even in the midst of existential angst. Besides, one can hardly invite an attractive conquest to one's abandoned hovel... I imagine it would spook even the adventurous nitwits. I don't mean you, darling... " I assure you, kissing you sweetly. "Not the nitwit part, anyway... but you were certainly my most attractive conquest...Sebastian Moran..."



"Why thank you, Jim Moriarty. You're not too shabby yourself..." I've been invited to, and happily spent time in, abandoned hovels... or squats, as they were more popularly known - and have had a very good time in some, but I've learnt that it's wise not to mention anything of the sort to you.

So, it appears that the most capable and sensible guys I've dealt with are part of the same organization, and that it's yours. I can't help but look at you in admiration - that's some vast conglomerate you got going there. Very tightly organized. And you're only 25!? Bloody hell.

"What are you, some kind of criminal genius?" I blurt out.



A smile plays on my lips.

Ohhhh... it’s so lovely to be *seen* again... *recognized*...

“Well, one doesn’t want to bring it up *oneself*..” I arch an eyebrow delicately.

“Yeah, OK, I am.” I grin at you cheekily.

“When I was a child, I wanted to be a dancer and an actor... and then an astrophysicist... and then I realised, the stars are lovely to study, but I could do that on my own rather than wasting time in school. My talents were best used in less savoury capacities... but my, did they pay off! Except for the whole becoming undead thing, of course. But I don’t know... maybe you’re right. Now that I have you, Sebastian... maybe I can reframe this whole creature of the night business... it does have its perks.” I flash you a wicked smile.



Oh, you like that description, do you? More than that - you seem happy to confirm it.

"I've seen some of what you built, and what I've seen has been really impressive. I can't believe you got all that before the age of 25 though - how on earth did you manage that? Did you inherit it?"



“*Inherit*?” I scoff. “The only thing I inherited was physical attributes.... blarney, admittedly... and love of an Irish exit. And I must have inherited some brainy DNA from *someone*, or it was a complete fluke. Honey, anything I have I built from the ground up, from the time I was 17... take mad genius, add all-consuming hunger and drive, throw in a Machiavellian streak, and bring to a full roiling boil. Voila - the Empire.”

You seem so impressed, so *in awe*... I want to fall over and roll around in how good this feels...



You really - you just came over to London and made it your own? I know London, know it intimately, know how incredibly unpredictable and treacherous it is... and vast, and dangerous - everyone wants a piece of London, there are so many warring factions - which is a good thing for me, as a freelancer - but the idea of anyone coming in and just - starting to take over - and surviving for more than a year - and you were so young, and - well - sorry - but so small...

But I recall your eyes... And it's not a vampire thing; that's the reflectiveness, the odd light sometimes, but - the way your eyes look - pure black, and - impossible to resist, to gainsay...

If I were on a job, and you'd have come up to me with those eyes, and told me to drop my gun - I'm not sure I wouldn't have...

And that combined with your genius...

yeah, I can imagine London being struck dumb when confronted with that...

But still... the fact that you managed to survive in the first place is quite astounding, and then having built up such a vast operation...

I mean, I was already in love with and in awe of you... but this adds an extra dimension. It's no longer just personal - you can not just subjugate me, you can rule the entirety of London...

Hmmm, Jim Moriarty... you are growing more fascinating by the minute...


Chapter Text

We both know what memories can bring
They bring diamonds and rust



You have ceased talking... ceased asking questions... you have fallen silent as you stare at me.

No more words of admiration and awe? I drink these instead from your countenance, from your parted lips... because you understand the enormity of what I have accomplished, and I see it in your shining eyes... sky-blue and gazing at me like a man adoring his beloved, and a knight revering his king.

And you are both of these things... *my* man, *my* knight...

And now I'm the one flooded with admiration and awe, and I pull you towards me to kiss you.

The kissing deepens, and my hands glide over your shoulders, drawing you even closer.

"We were meant to be getting ready, weren't we?" I murmur, my forehead pressed to yours. "And here we are again... behaving like hormone-addled teenagers..."



"You are - I'm still having to recover..." I murmur, moving my hands over your back, holding you close - your smooth body, so perfect in shape, not an inch that isn't pure magnificence...

I realize I haven't even explored every inch of your body yet... such delights yet to come... there is an entire side of hip I haven't scrutinized, the hairs on the back of your neck, your toes... all mine to explore in our upcoming honeymoon...

It feels so lovely to be lying like this, caressing, kissing, stroking, talking... but yes, we don't want to be late for our flight...

Reluctantly, I drag myself and you upright, hold your hand as we walk to the shower, wash each other... there is that side of hip... strong bone, a slight dip, then the muscles... mmm...

"Your place or mine first?" I ask.

I'm not even considering going separately. No way.



"Let's go to yours first... I assume you'll pack quickly? What to bring to wear on honeymoon... hmmm... so many stunning ensembles, so little time to try them all on..."

My brow creases. *God*... how am I ever going to decide??



"Suit, shirt, tie, shoes, normal clothes - I guess we can go swimming, if we do it at night, so swimming trunks - I guess people might stare at the stripes, but fuck them," I grin. "Lots of lube... some handcuffs?" I look at you innocently - please don't go off the rails because I have handcuffs. They might have been for work, right?

We get dressed, you call a car, give him my address. I am not surprised that you know it, honestly, but I wonder...

"Did you look in on me when I'd left?"



I turn my head towards you. "I popped by, yes... I wasn't very pleased to see you pouring alcohol down your throat when you were supposed to be hydrating, but... extenuating circumstances..." I concede.

I'm quiet for a moment. "It was very hard to stay angry at you..." I say softly. "Part of me just wanted to rush in and tell you how much I missed you... how much I wanted you back. I'm sorry the selfish, wounded part won out, Sebastian..."



I put my arms around, you, hug you. It's weird to feel all these clothes between us...

"I'm sorry I ran out like that. I was freaking out... but you didn't deserve that. Well, that's one more thing we won't have to worry about... married people always come back to each other, right? They should, anyway..."

I look into your eyes. That's a significant point, actually... you do have a habit of stomping off in a huff, and it scares me a bit each time.

"Can we - promise each other that? We're both hotheads..." you a bit more than me so far, but I'm not saying that... "I - it would mean a lot to me to promise that we'll always come back. That even if we are pissed off beyond reason, we will come back, and talk. Can you promise me that, Jim?"

I look into your eyes, my own getting hot. I don't know why this is making me so emotional... but the thought of you walking off and just not coming back... hurts.



I consider your words as I look back at you... this is a true crossroads for me. The only thing I *ever* had was myself... I was the only one who was ever on my side. So the thought of *trusting* someone... especially when I'm feeling angry or hurt... is a vulnerability I'm not sure I can handle.

The two people I loved in my life left me... one way or another. And they were family, my own flesh and blood.

Whereas you... I've known such a short time, despite my willingness to merge my life with yours. Can I truly trust that you will do not just what feels right for you but what's best for... us?

It's such a leap of *faith*... which is not something I'm used to having in another...

And if I'm hurt, don't I have the right to fly off in incandescent fury... to protect my own heart?

(And then what, Jimmy? After you leave? You would live without having this love... ever again?)

Sadness swamps me at the thought. Not just being alone, but... *hurting* you like that... being the one who caused you pain.

Oh, Sebastian...

I sigh shakily. "I know, darling... I'm a hothead and I always have been... and far worse than you could ever be..."

I chew my lip. "And I can't even promise I won't storm off... or be a huffy, unreasonable shit sometimes. Because I would break that promise without fail. And as for the rest..."

I take your hands before I realise what I've done... hold them in my own... and kiss them fervently.

"I promise, Sebastian... I will always come back. I will always talk with you, no matter how pissed off I get. I will always honour the vows I make to you... my word is gold, and you can trust me.

Can you promise m-me the same? Will you f-forgive my darkness when it comes out?"

I have never felt more like Richard... vulnerability and dismay score me deeply, and trembling, I lay my cheek against your hands.



You are looking at me, don't say anything for a moment.

I fear I have gone too far... have asked too much. It's hard to know what moves you...

But you promise - you promise... oh god, thank you... and then you ask me to promise too -

Oh - that is a step further, isn't it - not just come back when I walk away, but - to forgive your darkness when it comes out? Well - what would your darkness be? How can I make such a promise without knowing what I'm getting into?

Though - isn't that the *point* of marriage? Promising without knowing the future?

And - what's the worst your darkness could be? I mean - you nearly killed me a few nights ago, and I forgave you for that - and you promised you wouldn't do it again, and I believe that -

And - I can't possibly imagine you doing anything that would turn me away... even if it nearly kills me...

... maybe especially if it nearly kills me...

I don't have a death wish, as such, but - I do love that edge...

"I promise I will always come back if I've stormed off in a huff... I will always talk to you about what upsets me... And if your darkness comes out in a way that I can't bear - I will not run away from you. I promise you that, my Jim. I'm yours. For ever."

There you go. One Sebastian Moran. Tied with a ribbon and presented on a silver platter.



I look up from the hands I'm holding onto for dear life, pressing my face into...

your eyes are so full of love.

"And I'm yours, Sebastian. For Always."

My heart glows. It doesn't matter that it's not beating. I know what I feel.

"Sounds potentially like an awful lot of storming off in huffs..." I say dubiously, then chuckle to your surprise. "I guess we're a pair of idiots... ah, well. My life has always been a wild ride, even before I became a vampire... makes sense that my relationship wouldn't be all sunshine and lollipops. But I prefer moonlight and dark chocolate, anyway..."

Slowly I turn your hands so one is on top of the other - I kiss each knuckle on your top hand.

"I meant what I said..." I whisper against your hand when I'm finished. "You have my word, and you have my devotion..."



I put my face close to yours. "Same here, my sweet prince, my dark lord..." I whisper.

Fucking hell. I mean it.

I mean, I swore loyalty to Queen and Country, but that was a load of shite. I not once actually believed in any oath I've sworn - except the one I made to David after he'd died.

But this - I mean it. I feel like an old knight of yore, swearing fealty to his king, fully signing over his life and his entire being to another human, who is so much more than human...

And that's what I feel with you. I am in total awe of you, I would do anything you ask of me. Thrall? Oh definitely. But I don't need blood, or magic, or whatever. I just need those dark eyes... that dark voice... and finally, finally I have found what I have been looking for all my life, without realizing. A purpose.

The moment lingers, and finally is punctuated by your phone ringing. Staying Alive?! Really!?!

I can't help but giggle at that, as you glare at me, pick it up.

"Car's here..."



I get up, ignoring you as you snigger quietly behind me.

"We won't be returning here, Sebastian... make sure you take anything you brought with you." I pick up the small suitcase I've already packed, and you grab your jacket and take the suitcase from my hand.

I smile at you, and then look around the apartment. This is it.

"This is where it happened... where a sweet boy brought home the sexiest man he'd ever seen. And by the end of the night... an assassin and a vampire mastermind had fallen for each other," I say softly. "And it's time to move onto the next bit... but I will never forget our time here." My eyes flicker over the living room, and I feel a pang of sadness. So silly.

You move closer to me, and kiss me sweetly. There's promise in your kiss, and it soothes my maudlin moment. I sigh happily, and smile up at you. "Shall we, darling?"



"Let's," I smile. I look back at the apartment - the place where I almost died, the place I spent a horrid hour in front of the door, fearing I'd never see your face again, the place where we spoke of love, the place where we got engaged... It's a shitty place, but I love it with all my heart.

We walk out into the hallway; you close and lock the door. Bye...

We head to the lift. I remember our first ride up here... nearly didn't make it to the apartment; I was so head over heels with Richard...

A smile comes to my lips. You look surprised as I get down on one knee. I take out the marker pen I took from the desk in the apartment.

And right above Ana and Raoul, the lift now proudly declares to any who enter it that Sebastian and Richard will be together 4eva.



I gaze at the hallway as we walk to the lift, taking in the graffiti, the pounding bass.

We could never live here, so I commit each detail to memory, file it in my mind map under 'Sebastian and Richard Moran', subheading: A Bunny Meets a Tiger.

In the lift, you're smiling. I smile back at you questioningly when you're taking a marker out of your pocket and writing something on the wall - what - are you -



Is it possible I actually turned into a bunny with red hearts for eyes? I don't see how I can appear otherwise. I pull you towards me and kiss you.

The kiss feels like it could have lasted days, because my mind is replaying for me every moment with you from the first time I saw you... it's like seeing your life flash before your eyes, only it's not quick - it's *slow* and *sweet*, like drizzles of luscious honey - and it's not the end of my life - it's the beginning.

"4eva," I whisper, and kiss you well past the lift doors opening and dinging at us.



That went down alright then. I did consider writing Jim, but Richard seems fitting; he was the one I went into this lift with, and the one I am going to marry.

Your kiss is so loving, so intense...

Fuck off ding. We’re busy.

It’s only when we hear a throat being cleared that we break off, grin at the man waiting, and walk outside through the entrance - the door has been leaned against the wall. I look at you questioningly, you nod sheepishly. My strong little vampire... so keen to see me...

We get into the car and drive to my place.

I show you in; you look around as I gather my stuff - my nice suit and shoes, a good shirt and tie, some normal clothes, socks, underwear, swimming trunks, toiletries...

... handcuffs...

... anything else?

I think that’s it. I head back to the living room, where you’re studying my bookshelf.

“No Dracula or Twilight I’m afraid...” I say. You look up, smiling.

“Not just a pretty face then...” you nod at my books. I grab three, put them in my suitcase.

“Nice touch with the handcuffs...” you grin. I look up, startled, look at the suitcase - how did you –



“Vampire hearing? Did I forget to mention that?” I ask you innocently. “Oh, those damnable predators and their keen senses... makes it so difficult for prey to get away with being sneaky... and get away full stop.” I smile at you slyly, and wander around your living room.

“So this is your place...” It’s nice enough... a bit spartan and bachelor-esque for my taste. “We’re going to have to decide where to live. See how you like my penthouse, but we could get another place, as well... I’ve been moving around just to be safe.”



Live. We’re going to live together. For always. You and I. My books on your shelf. Your toothbrush on my sink. I’ll find out what your favourite tv-shows are and you’ll learn which games I like.

The enormity of it strikes me. It’s one thing to be swept along in a mad fantasy when in a strange apartment, but seeing you here, in my living room, my fantasy prince in my prosaic surroundings... feels so dissonant, so weird... I have to touch you to make sure you are real, we are here, this is happening...

Suddenly my eye falls on the little box on the top shelf. A small box inlaid with mother-of-pearl and ivory, made in a time when that was still the norm.

Oh god - of course...

I reach up, take it, open it, take out a small black box. I look at you, get down on one knee -

“I believe that this is how it should be done, rather than a throwaway question in bed... I apologize, my love.”

I open the box. Inside is a gold ring with a doubtlessly priceless diamond.

“My grandmother gave me this. It was her engagement ring. She wanted me to have it and to give it to the girl of my dreams...”

I look up at you, swallow.

“It’s probably too small for you, and it’s a bit girly, so I don’t expect you to wear it - but I want you to have it.”



You seem a bit overwhelmed at the question, which I suppose makes sense given the circumstances. Still, I feel worry wriggle through me like a tiny serpent. Are you... having doubts?

Oh god, what if you're having doubts??

You're staring up at the bookshelf with an intent expression. Jesus, why are you obsessing about books right now? How many books do you plan to read on our honeymoon?

You can reach the top shelf without straining... so hot.

And now you're... *oh*...

I look from the ring to you and back again.

I never let myself imagine this... but somewhere deep inside, that hidden part of me, the sweet little romantic bunny we call Richard must have been secretly dreaming...

My hand floats to the box, plucks it out of your hand... and I gaze at the ring nestled in the velvet lining.

"Beautiful..." I murmur.

I touch your cheek lovingly. "Will you put it on me, Sebastian? I think it should fit my little finger..."

Then before I know it I've fallen on my knees to the carpet in front of you. Oh, Richard... you are *so smitten*...

Staring into your eyes, I hold out the box to you, and give you my hand.



I take the ring out of its nesting place, take your hand. My own hand trembles.

"Jim Moriarty, Richard Brook," I say - I never expected to say two names when proposing to someone - but then I never expected to propose to anyone...

"Will you do me the honour of being my husband?"

At your "yes", I put the ring on the little finger of your left hand.

You smile at me with such delight - that beautiful smile, that lights up your face -

Yes, Grandma. You told me to give it to the girl who made my heart light up when she smiled. It's not a girl, but you won't mind - you're much more progressive than your dick of a son.

I never thought my heart could light up again... but here it is, the smile that makes my heart glow incandescent.

I kiss your hand, with its diamond. Put the box in my pocket, in case you want to take it off at some point.



On their knees, on a living room floor... a ring is slid onto a vampire’s finger by his betrothed... and the world seems to tilt on its axis.

I beam at you.

You kiss my hand, and we stare at each other for a long moment.

I lean in and kiss you softly. Then you stand, and pull me up.

I look at my ring, admiring it. “Shiny. If I put it on a band designed for a man, I’d love to wear it. Would that be all right with you?”

Suddenly the doorbell chimes. We look at each other.

“Are you... expecting someone?” I ask, my brow furrowing.



"No - probably Jehovas or the Lib Dems... let me get rid of them."

I head to the door, open it, ready to ask whoever wants my money, my soul, or my vote to kindly piss off.

My mouth drops open.


What the hell?

"Hey there," he grins, grabs me in a hug. "Tom said you weren't doing too great - figured I'd come and see how you were. I brought Guinness. You look like shit, Moran - civilian life not all it's hacked up to be?"



Who... are you talking to?

I peek around you, and see a tall soldier-looking type.

Hugging you. Offering you beer.

I tamp down on the jealousy that had me thinking of killing you, only a day ago.

A lot has happened since then.

We’ve got engaged.

I’m wearing your *fucking* ring.

I can do this. I can be gracious and not a monster.

“Sebastian...?” I ask sweetly. “Who’s at the door?”

I appear behind you suddenly, and wrap an arm around your waist.

“Hello,” I say to the man in front of you. Oh. Not just tall. Muscular and good-looking.

He appears surprised, and looks at you questioningly.

No, sweetheart - you look at *me*.

I smile fiercely at him. “My name’s Richard. Who might you be?”



Oh hello Jim... not giving me the chance to introduce you two, are you? Staking your territory?

Fuck - with your history of going off in a huff if I even mention Stiles in a fever dream... you're not going to like meeting the real deal, are you?

But fuck that - I haven't seen him in ages and he's come to see if I'm alright, and I'm not going to send him away.

"Richard - darling - let me introduce you to Henry, an old army mate. Henry, this is Richard, my - fiancé..."

Henry's eyebrows almost touch the ceiling. Yeah, I know, mate...

"Please - do come in." I move aside, you look at me, but come on Jim. "We're - actually leaving soon, but we have time for one drink - it's good to see you, man! You look good!"

He does - he looks fit, tanned, and thriving.



Henry, darling... you seem taken aback...

Sebastian, sweetheart... *what the fuck*... we’re having a drink with him now?

What am *I* supposed to talk about?? My criminal empire? My wacky life as a vampire? Or do I just sit around like a lump while you two reminisce?

Who is this Henry??

And why did you pause before you called me your fiancé??

Stop it, Jim... this is *not* how you prove you trust your darling...

All right... *fine*... what would Richard do??

I think we're about to find out...

“S-so, Henry... are you still in the army?” I ask, shyly. “How long has it been since you two served together?”

Well, I haven’t torn out his throat and it’s been thirty seconds! This seems to be working *just fine*...

And I *hope* you’re proud of my restraint... I try to smile at you sweetly, but I think it may look more like I’m hungry.



I lead you both into the living room and head to grab some glasses from the kitchen. I hear you ask Stiles a perfectly polite question. Why is it that it makes the hairs in the back of my neck stand on end?

As I rush in with the glasses, Stiles is telling you that it's been about three years. He's not volunteering anything else - no, he wouldn't. You don't tell outsiders that you're SAS.

He's looking at ease, though surprised, so I decide to move the conversation away from his work to Jim and me.

"So, Demmings must have told you that I'd been in an accident, lost a bit of blood - I'm doing much better, thanks. You should have seen me a couple of days ago. Richard has been taking excellent care of me."

I see him look between you and me, wonder clearly written on his face.

"Did Demmings mention that I was... that he talked with me about... that there was love trouble?" I decide to throw it out there.

Stiles nods, slowly. Oh... was he thinking - he could cheer me up in that department as well?

"Well, that's obviously... been cleared up," I smile nervously, looking at you. "Richard and I... we are about to head to Vegas, to get married."

Henry looks still surprised, but genuinely delighted as well. He's never been the possessive type.

"Oh, congratulations! Let's drink to that!" He raises his glass, as do we, we clink and sip. "That is so great to hear! I'd been worried about you, since you left - he's great with getting shot at, but I was wondering how he'd fare in the big bad real world," he winks at you.

"So - how long have you been together? How did you meet?"



I observe you as you chat. You seem nervous, darling. What is there to be nervous about. Darling.

I do a quick dive into my mind map.

Sebastian Moran: History. 3 years ago. SAS.

SAS: 4-men patrols.

Moran. Demmings. Stiles. Unnamed.

Fact: This is not Demmings.

Conclusion: This is the Player Yet to Be Named, who I know nothing about. Or *Stiles*, who I know a little *something* about.

MostLikelyStiles might have an agenda about tonight, but he doesn't seem to have designs on you now that he's heard about us. So he just saved his own motherfucking life.

He even winks at me in a genuinely friendly manner, which my Richard side finds charming. Weird.

*Jim*, on the other hand... is not very happy at being face to face with the mysterious Stiles. Invited in for a drink. On your sofa. Before we leave for our honeymoon.

My eyes glint, and you and I look at each other, before I turn an innocent smile towards Stiles (?).

"We've been together... four days? I know, it s-sounds completely mental... because it *is*. We've just had such a beautiful, whirlwind romance, we felt like going a little crazy and eloping." I shrug helplessly with a shy smile.

"We met in a club... It's a funny story, we met because of a spilled drink! Sebastian was dancing with a lovely young lady, and I... well, I have to admit something to you, darling." I cover my face. "I spilled the drink on her on purpose... I'm sorry, it was so manipulative, I just - every time I saw you, you were already with someone and - this felt like my only shot." I look at Stiles (?), who's chuckling.

"In my defence, she was *not* very nice about it. So I think I saved Sebastian from a much worse fate than being a romantic fool." I smile at both of you cheekily. "Anyway, we had a drink, and danced together, and... I assume this won't shock you, but I invited him over to my place. And I guess I made an impression..." I raise an eyebrow, then realise I'm veering towards being my usual predatory self. And I really need to let my inner Richard take care of this, because he's doing *so well*... your big army fuckbuddy is still alive - *silent incoherent screaming* - which means I don't have to risk our elopement derailing because of one silly little vicious murder... I will *not* allow that to happen.

You can do this, Jimmy... you can not-murder. I believe in you... now sally forth and be a sweet, charming vampire.

Er - not-vampire.

Be a *Bunny*.



Stiles chuckles at that. "Oh, I can just imagine - Sebastian has no standards whatsoever."

Not. Helping. Mate.

I shoot him a glance. He catches it - of course he does, this is the one guy who knows me best in the whole world. He was closer to me than a brother - not that I ever had one... but he'll catch any signal I throw at him.

"However," he recovers, "where it comes to actual romance, it does appear he has excellent taste, if you don't mind me saying so. You seem like a very nice man, Richard. What on earth you want with a fleabag like Moran is beyond me..." he laughs, "but no, seriously - good for you two. Wow. I can't believe it."

He looks from one to the other.

"Heh, yeah - I told you, Richard... I never really was the romantic type. Never did love..." Don't raise your fucking eyebrows like that, Stiles! "... but - yeah - you know what they say - when it's right, it's right. And Richard -" I reach out my hand to you, you put yours in mine - cold - oh yeah - "... Richard is just... you know how you have a shot and the moment you start pulling the trigger you know it's a dead hit? Yeah, that's the feeling I had with Richard. I spent like a day and a half away from him, and it was hell. This is the big one, Stiles... and I'm so fucking blessed to have found it."

"Seriously, that is great, guys. I'm so happy for you both. Will you be away long? We should be in London for a few weeks, get in touch if you'd like to catch up when you're back. Hoyle is in Lancashire, but may be coming over in a week or two - we could properly celebrate you getting hitched instead of poor Demmings!"

I'd love that - I would really love to see them all again, have a drink, have a laugh, gush about my wonderful husband -

I smile at you.



‘No standards’...

‘A fleabag like Moran’...

‘You seem like a very nice man, Richard’...

Ooooh, a *nice man*... that's what you want to be called. It's the sexiest thing there is...

Oh *yes*, let's celebrate! Why don't you contact as many of your hook-ups as you can find, and invite them, as well?!

I see myself leaping across the room at Stiles, you trying to hold me back, me throwing you into the wall..

Stiles, broken and bloody on the floor...

Sebastian, furious and crying... screaming at me to leave...



I suck in a breath I don't need. Stiles looks at me questioningly. You look at me with wide eyes.

Yes, Sebastian? You *should* be worried about what I'm capable of...

Lucky for *you*, I am bound and determined to not cause a scene on our wedding day.

It's going to a be a beautiful fucking day that we'll both remember for always.

"You really want to know what a fleabag like Sebastian is doing with a nice man like me, Henry?" I ask conspiratorially. I look around the room, as if scanning for eavesdroppers... Stiles actually leans forward.

"*You* must know Sebastian's a bad boy... Would he ever settle for nice?" I ask innocently. "Or would all this sweetness just melt away when the sun goes down... because the sun - always - goes - down. Doesn't it, Tiger?" I flash you a feral smile, and drink deep from my glass. When I finish, I lower my glass with an emphatic thump and run my tongue over my lips at you.

Stiles is staring at me, transfixed. "Mystery solved, Henry?" I smile at him sweetly.



Oh -

Oh god what are you -

Jim -


I look at Stiles, who looks like he's just seen a cobra emerge from a pretty flower basket.


And then he breaks out in laughter.

"Oh - oh, wow," he laughs. "Oh, thank fuck for that..."

What the fuck, Stiles?!

"I'm sorry, Richard," he says, "You had me convinced for a moment... and I was really worried about you - poor guy... and about Basher here.

But - nah, it looks like you're good. You do it very well, though... totally had me fooled." He drinks down his pint.

"Looks like you two are well matched... good luck with him.

No, seriously, I mean it," he says, face suddenly earnest. "Seb - he's one of the best guys I've ever met. I mean, he's a hot-headed arsehole, of course, but - yeah. He deserves happiness.

And you - there's a lot more to you than meets the eye, that's clear.

You may just survive each other - and if you do, you may just make each other happy.

And - that is the greatest thing any of us could ever hope for in this life."

He gets up.

"Go for it, you mad kids," he grins. "I'll get out of your hair, so you can get ready for your trip. Have an amazing time."

He hugs me, turns to you, holds out his hand.



Oh goody, I love it when the room goes silent for me...

You - staring, horrified... at what I might do? Honey if he were going to die, it would have happened by now.

Stiles assesses me carefully like a fascinating, dangerous creature... ah, you see me *now*, don't you?

And then he's laughing, which is a*dor*able, and stop looking *so worried* Sebastian, I'm behaving, aren't I?

Hot-headed arsehole, huh... perhaps I'll be meeting him soon?

Stiles says some lovely things, yes yes, you may go now...

When he holds out his hand, I look at it. Then with a smile, I gracefully extend my hand, palm facing down.

He grins and kisses it - smart boy.

And then he's gone, and as the sound of the door shutting fades away, there is resounding silence.

Our eyes lock.



Oh you - utter -

Oh god and Stiles kisses your hand -

How lucky am I to end up with the world's utmost prima donna - who manages to get away with it in the face of one of the toughest soldiers in Her Majesty's employ?

I'm staring at you both wide-eyed, and then Stiles makes his exit, winks at us both, still chuckling to himself.

I look at you. Your face is unreadable. I feel uncomfortable - almost guilty - fuck that, I haven't done anything wrong! No one told me I should be saving myself for my future husband. Besides, you like my skills...

"So..." I say, more nervously than I'd like. "That was Henry..."



I stare at you for a long moment. I feel my eyes darken. I move towards you slowly.

Within an instant, I have pushed you against the wall, plastering my body against you.

"Oh... Henry..." I say lightly.

"Tell me, Sebastian... Do you think I enjoyed meeting someone you've *been with* and *dreamed about* recently... sitting down for a drink with them... making plans to get together and celebrate?" I throw my head back and laugh darkly.

"Do you?" I ask in a voice like fraying silk.



I'm picked up and pushed against the wall by a vampire... who laughs and looks at me like he's going to break my neck...

I gasp - stiffen -

- so does my cock. What the fuck, Sebastian... seriously? He's pushing you against the wall, throwing a jealous fit for no reason at all and you find it hot!?

I swallow.

No - no, Jim Moriarty.

You may be hot, but I have nothing to be ashamed of...

I pull myself up. I may not be stronger than you, but I'm taller, and can look down at you as I tell you how I feel -

"I don't know - didn't you? You should have - he's the closest thing to a friend I have. You saw what he was like - if there had been anything like romance or love between him and me, would he have been so genuinely delighted and cheerful? We fucked, yes - I fucked lots of people, Jim, it's a perfectly normal physical urge, and I refuse to apologize for not staying a virgin until marriage! What the fuck is wrong with you - you get into a huff any time I even hint at having been with people before, or wanting to walk away - how fucking insecure are you?! I said I love you - I've never told anyone that in my adult life! I asked you to marry me! I gave you my grandmother's ring - you can be sure that no one else has ever even seen that thing! What more do you want!?"

I push you away from me. You're crowding me.

You're standing a foot away, black eyes blazing. I'm sure mine blaze back.



My mouth drops open. You're not giving me what I want? After I played so nicely??


My non-beating heart twinges. And twinges again.

I wince. That's *not* supposed to happen.

*Stop* it, heart... You are not supposed to hurt after I *fucking died*!!

"I don't understand, Sebastian... did you not see me trying?" My voice wavers.

Then my eyes narrow. No. We're not doing this now... this situation doesn’t call for sad and hurt.

*Richard*... go and play, darling... Daddy's got this, now.

"I'm confused - did you not see me sit and make polite conversation with your *fuckbuddy* who *you invited in for a drink* and expected me to just... *deal with it*?" I say softly, but my expression is anything but.

I sense the gleam in my eyes, feel my lips curl into a small smile.

"Darling? Did I get that right? Should I have just... sucked it up, buttercup?"

I huff out a laugh, and move towards you. "There are certain things that I will happily suck, Sebastian - but the day I sit back and *take something* is the day I walk into the daylight for the sunburn of a lifetime."

I move closer and closer as you watch me, eyes widening. "You're still getting to know me, my darling... but this is very important for you to understand." I tilt my head to observe you. "I don't *take* anything I don't want to..." I say in a silky, seductive voice, and press myself slowly against you. "*My* world... *my* rules... I whisper, and breathe in your scent. "*My Tiger*..."



Those eyes... mesmerizing...

I want to just say 'Yes, Sir,' and do anything you want...

But fuck it, you're being unreasonable!

"Oh really? Is that the way it's going to be? Your rules, meaning that I can't hang with any of my old army buddies? It's rare enough that I get to see them at all, and they're the only friends I have! I don't have family that I care for - they are my family! Demmings and Stiles, mostly - Hoyle is - alright, but we weren't close. So you're telling me to stop talking to the one guy who's closer to me than a brother because you're jealous!? Because you don't want to take it? What's that supposed to mean!?"



“That’s so sweet...” I growl. “And if you think I’m going to be OK with you getting together with someone you *fucked*...” I suck in my breath. “Oooh... darling... are you in for a surprise.” I brush over your protests. “I’m not *completely unreasonable*... If your army buddies are having a little reunion, I can be *gracious*. Don’t I seem like I can be *fucking gracious*?? And it’s not like you could cheat without my knowing! Vampire senses... remember, darling?”

I grin at you, making sure to show a little fang.

“Besides, I trust you,” I say loftily. “But if you think I should be sweet and silent when I don’t *like* something... honey, you proposed to the wrong psychopath.”

I throw back my head and stare up at you with an arrogant smile. “Only you didn’t... did you. You want this. You *like* this...” I purr. “And you *need* this... don’t try to deny it, Sebastian. I know what you are...” I whisper into your ear.



I want to protest, tell you that I will get together with whomever I damn well please, and you can fuck right off with your graciousness...

I want to push you away, tell you to stop being a twat...

I want to punch that arrogant smile off your face...

I want to...

I want to fall to my knees in front of you...

I want to kiss your hand and ask you for forgiveness...

I want to stand here and shiver under the words you are saying...

"What do you mean."

I swallow.

"What do you mean by what I am..."



"Hmm, what do I mean...?" I ask in a velvety voice as I run my hands down your chest and up to your neck. "Well, just to start - you're an adrenaline junkie, and an addict for sensation and danger. You fell in love with a psychopath, a criminal mastermind, and a *vampire*... you say it's not because I was a vampire... but your little fuck-friend who's like a brother to you was worried at the thought that you were with someone *nice*... because it wouldn't *work*, Sebastian. And you don't just want not-nice..." I purr. "You nearly got drained dry and you *came back* for me... and let me *chain you up*... You like danger, baby? I'm the embodiment of danger in *every* possible way..." I begin to move around you slowly, brushing lightly against you.

"But that was just the superficial reading, darling... You want the good stuff, the deep down dirty business? I think you do... I think you *crave* it - you want me to tell you what you are?" I laugh softly, and move my hands up to your shoulders.

"You want me to see what no one has *ever* seen... what no one has *ever* known about the big strong soldier, the commanding officer, the contract killer, the scary sonofabitch who's afraid of nothing... that Sebastian Moran wants *someone to tell him what to do*." My tongue moves along the back of your neck, and you shiver.

"Sebastian Moran - wants *someone to make him his*..." My hands move along your throat and around your jaw.

"Mmm... Sebastian Moran - *wants to be owned*..." I whisper seductively and move my hands down your chest.

"And I'm here to make your deepest, darkest desires come true..." I say in a sighing voice, feeling your muscles start to go limp.

I grasp your shoulders and twist you around quickly. "You want to fight me some more, Sebastian?" My fingers dig into your arms. "*Go on*... tell me I'm wrong. Rail at me, bluster at me, 'you can't tell me what to do!' You'll still come to the same place in the end... asking to hear the one word you want me to say... the one word that will give you your rightful place in the world... the one word that will make all this searching and struggling end, that will make your *fucking* dream come true. What's it going to be, Sebastian?" I growl, and pull you towards me. "What do you want me to give you? A fight? Or *just* - *one* - *word*?"



Each word you say is a chisel chipping away at me, until all that is left is my naked soul...


Adrenaline junkie - well, yes, everyone knows that.


I bristle at the little fuck-friend, but...

someone nice wouldn’t work?

Richard... love... but - you’re right... I’d love intensely for a bit, but... in the long run... I’d get... bored? It pains me to say, but... probably... I’m so sorry, Richard...


chain you up - cock definitely getting hard...


embodiment of danger -

my mouth has dropped open and I’m breathing fast - dammit soldier - try to keep it together-


tell you what you are...

Your tongue on my neck. Gooseflesh down my arms.


wants someone to tell him what to do

- no - fuck off - I’m my own man -


Your hands on my throat - oh god -

wants someone to make him his

- god - Jim - a choked sound in my throat -


wants to be owned...






My soul bifurcates.

There is the strong independent soldier. Tough. Doesn’t need anyone. Won’t let anyone tell him what to do.

The lone wolf.

It’s me. It’s who I’ve worked hard to be.

Behind him, someone I don’t recognize. He looks like me. He is still the strong soldier who takes no shit. He is still the very best at what he does.

And he’s on his knees, a chain around his neck. Held by a white, cold hand.

The captive tiger.


My soul, mercilessly bared. The next step will determine the path it takes. And the next step hinges on one word -


“What is the word?”

My voice is barely a whisper. But you heard.



"Is that how you ask, Tiger?" I ask softly, gazing up at you. "For deliverance? For salvation?"

You take in a shaky breath. "Please..."

My seductive smiling face melts away, leaving cold white marble in its place.

I stare at you for a long moment with a severity that borders on savage.

Slowly I remove my hands from you, hearing a hitch in your throat.

The only hint of desire in me is my ravening gaze, which I can feel blazing at you like obsidian hellfire.

The word hovers, prepares to fall from my lips like a stone...

not just any stone...

the cold stone that has waited since time immemorial to hold the neck of the one who has been judged.

Only your neck won't be waiting for a sharp axe slicing the air, but a gleaming chain snapping into place, securing you to me for all time.

Are you ready for our true beginning, Tiger?


The stone drops at your feet with the full weight of destiny, echoing as if through a passage of centuries. *Millenia*.

I look at the floor and then at you with coal-black, scorching eyes.



Your voice, so soft...

Someone responding ‘Please...’

that sounded like my voice - but surely I am not able to speak -

And then - you change. There is no trace of Richard now. Is this - the real you? As you are pulling down every layer covering me, are you unveiling yourself as well - showing the essence of Jim to the bare bones of Seb, and find out if they fit?

Your eyes... did I really think they were intense before? They shine with a fierce vivid darkness that completely absorbs me.

Time slows down as your mouth opens.

Our eyes are locked. I am unable to blink. I am unable to breathe. I am unable to move.




The first soldier, the lone wolf, fades.

Was he even real? Was he - a spectre, a mirage chased all my life, for... what?

You know why.


All your life, you’ve worked so hard... to be the best, the strongest, the fastest.

All so you would be worthy of being told to kneel here, now, by this man.


My eyes never leaving yours, I sink to my knees in front of you.



The moment between us is eternity...

I stretch out a hand, and it feels like it spans a lifetime (lifetimes?) by the time I touch your face.

I hold your jaw, stroke it.

I gaze at you in rapt silence.

My Tiger... *finally* mine...

"Your search is over, Sebastian... You found your rightful place in the world, and it's with me..."

I lean in closer, eyes gleaming. "Now... I want to hear it from you, darling. *What are you*?"



You touch my face.

A blessing. A caress. An acceptance.

My rightful place in the world...

... with you.

On my knees.

My heart is beating so hard that I can’t think, can hardly breathe, but I clearly hear every word that you are saying.

What am I.

Not enough that you state it, it needs to come from my lips. I need to seal the contract that signs my life away to you.

I open my mouth.


I can get up and walk away. I can say I am not ready for this. I can tell you you’re mad.


I can’t.

I never could.


My heart rate slows as my mind calms down, my muscles relax.

This is it. Finally, after all these years of fighting, I need to fight no more.

I am home.


The syllable falls between us, and binds us together, stronger than any rings or contracts could.




My head drops down, a sigh escapes - of relief, of release.


“... I am yours.”

Chapter Text

First and last and always: My calling, my time
First and last and always: Mine
First and last and always: 'til the end of the end of time
First and last and always: Mine
First and last and always: 'til the end of time
First and last and always: Mine



I gaze down at you during the long pause that precedes your words.

It’s not even a question that you will say it... I simply wait and allow you your moment of reflection.

Down deep I am the embodiment of calm, even as my hunger for you rises.

I am the eye, and I am the storm.

And I wait for you to deliver your own judgement.

And you do...

Oh, you do, *so beautifully*...

with your head falling, and the sigh of a lifetime, you release your burden...

*Oh my Tiger*...

My hand moves through your hair, and then to your cheek, raising your face up.


“Mine,” I reply, in a voice of iron and velvet - and with our solemn exchange of words, our compact is sealed, along with our fates.


There is but one thing left to do in demonstration of our covenant...

My hands trail down to your shoulders, then grasp the fabric of your shirt. I pull down with force, and tear through the fabric. I throw the torn shirt to the floor, and stare down at you with eyes burning.


“What I wish to do to you there’s no time for, Sebastian...” I whisper darkly. “This will have to tide me over... and you too, my love...”


I reach over to your bag, and rifle through until my hands close on the handcuffs.

I look around the room, and spot a sturdy oak desk. I walk over to it and point at the spot in front of me on the floor.



I feel so heavy, and yet so light... Like I could never raise my head, could never get up off my knees, but at the same time, I feel like I'm floating, like a load I never knew I was carrying has fallen off me.

Your hand on my hair, my face. I look up at you. My love. My lord.


I don't know what happened. I don't know what's going to happen. I don't need to - it's out of my hands. It is in yours - as am I.




My heart bursts open - I have been accepted.

Your hand, stroking - tearing off my shirt - your eyes devouring me -

Without thinking, I move my head back, baring my throat to you.

But no - you walk to my desk, point to the floor. I get up, walk over to you, and sink to my knees in front of you again.



I watch you as you come to me, and fall back on your knees.


"Tiger... our journey together has truly begun..." I murmur, gazing at you for a long moment.


I caress your face and then trail my hand over your shoulder as I move around you slowly and gracefully as only a preternatural creature can.

There is nothing slow or graceful about how I remove your clothes... Mine follow the tatters of yours, and the handcuffs are clapped over your wrists and affixed to the large brass handle on the desk drawer.

I'm going to have to stay close to you to make sure you don't inadvertently yank the drawer out of the desk.

This presents no significant problem... I intend to stay very close to you for every moment possible in our life together...


I sink to my knees on the carpet. My hand caresses your jaw, and turns your head to the side. I claim your lips with mine, and we kiss each other hungrily.

Oh... we are more than ready for this...

I break off the kiss, and take the lube I had pulled out from my jacket. I coat my cock, and slide a slicked finger into you.


"The things I'm going to do to you when we have night after night to fill, my darling..." I whisper, fingering you. "But for now... I need to claim what's mine in the time I have..."


I remove my finger, and kiss you possessively while rubbing between the cheeks of your arse with my cock.


"Mmm..." I murmur, burying my nose into your neck. "You got your wish, Sebastian... you belong to *me* now..."


I push into you, moaning and digging my fingers into your hips.



My clothes are torn off me in the blink of an eye, and I'm chained. I don't know what you are going to do to me - and I don't care. In this moment, you could decide to drink me dry after all, and I'd let you. If that is what you desire - it's what you shall have.

But your clothes are discarded too, and I gaze up at your marble beauty...

And you kiss me, and the world disappears. There is only this. Here. Now. You. It has always been you. All there is… is you. And you are all there ever will be.

When the kiss ends, I struggle to remember where I am. Why my hands are twisted up and have iron digging into them. But your words... your promises... your eager, impatient finger...

I moan, and your mouth is on mine again, and then -


You take me...


You possess me...


My knees on the wooden floor, my arms hanging from my hands, tied to the desk, my hips held by the iron grip of your hands, you plunge deeply into me, and I keen... in ultimate surrender, ecstasy, passion -

Yours. Always, forever, yours. Inescapable. Irrevocable. Irresistible.

I don't know when tears started flowing.



The sounds in the room swell... moaning... growling... the metallic clank of the cuffs, the wooden thump of the desk drawer... the slap of our bodies...your *keening*...


Oh god... *Sebastian*...

and then as I press my cheek against yours, I feel wetness...


Oh *fuck*... *so beautiful*....

I kiss the tears that I can reach, taste their salt...


"Oh Tiger, my love, my always..." I breathe, and reach for your cock. "Come with me... *Come for me*..."


As I stroke you, I move faster and harder in you, and new sounds are added to the room ... grunting, crying out, howling, all interwoven, creating the most beautiful cacophony...


"God, yes... fuck, *Tiger*..." I shout as I fuck you with abandon, pulling you hard against me again... again... again.



Tiger... love... always...


I didn't know I craved these words until you speak them, and I realize that I have been yearning for this, for confirmation of your love.... even now you have stripped me bare, have chiselled away all my defences, have revealed my inner self, never before exposed, you still love me...

And you are possessing me, possessing my body, rough, raw, naked -

My entire body is pulsing with the vehemence of - everything, emotions, sensations, thoughts - you - and you tell me to come with you, come for you, and yes, I will come, of course I will, the first time as truly yours, and you will come, for the first time truly possessing me, and the world may not explode, and we may both survive this, but if not, it was worth it, god, Jim, it was worth it...

You pound inside me with a maddening vehemence, and I am lost... so lost as my entire being contracts into my groin, and expands inexorably outwards...



Amidst our ecstatic tremors, our violent shivers of pleasure, we are crying out and howling... and I don't know which noise belongs to who, because it's like we're the same being now... and it really doesn't matter.


We are made of the stuff of stars...

We are twin explosions of vivid light, flaming comets flying out into the velvet blackness of the cosmos...

Out in the shimmering field of stars, we are suspended beyond time-space, beyond thought and word and feeling.

But eventually there is desire...

Desire to see you again... feel you again...

My Tiger...


Slowly, slowly, I collect myself from where I'm scattered through the universe... and feel myself being gradually poured back into the vessel that is Jim...

Oh. My. Was that a love thing or a vampire thing?

I find myself collapsed against you, my completely unnecessary breathing matching your own. My face is buried in your shoulder, which rises and falls as you pant.


Raising my head slightly, I murmur, "Sebastian? I really don't want to get dressed, but if we're going to go..."


I pull out, wincing. You sigh and lean your head against the dresser drawer.

I take the key and uncuff you. You sit on your knees, blinking at me.


I push you down and sit in your lap. Wrapping my arms around you, I press my face against yours.

Your strong arms envelop me.


I pull back to stare up into your eyes. “You’re home now, Tiger..." I whisper. “My beautiful love...”




The world is a daze, I’m not quite all back yet from my journey through the blackest expanses of the universe.

I’m not sure what happened. It was sex, of a kind... like the sun is a flame of a kind.


You look at my face, caress me, murmur sweet things. Things like ‘all right’ and ‘home’ and ‘love’.


Slowly, pieces of me come back, click into place, come online. Eventually, someone like Sebastian Moran is sitting here, his loving fiancé on his lap.

He tries movement. He tries speech. He feels like Frankenstein’s creation - newly cobbled together, and uncertain of his body and mind.


“Jim...” I look at you. I’m not sure what I’m asking, what I want to say.



I observe you closely, as I stroke your face. I took you for a deep dive into true submission, and it looks like you’re still transitioning back from that shadowy place of ultimate surrender.


“Sebastian... there’s no rush. If we have to catch the next flight, we will...” I caress your cheeks, planting gentle kisses along your jaw.


“If you feel strange, it’s normal. Submission can be intense as it is, and the depth that you went, what I demanded of you... is not what most people are equipped to handle. It’s like you were in a crucible... melted down... and reformed as something new. More pure, more strong, more *true*... truly Mine, my Tiger...” I whisper, and kiss your lips.


“And it affected me, too. It was *alchemy*... we’re both something different than we were before. Do you feel it? I loved you, and it can’t compare to what I feel for you now...” I say softly, pressing my forehead to yours.


“Are you alright, darling? Do you need a drink or anything?”



Your eyes are looking into mine, so deeply - and there's such love there, such genuine care...

I realize there are tears on my cheeks. Did I cry?

You're reassuring me, telling me that my feelings are normal...

How can they be normal, Jim? Surely no one has ever experienced this?

You say submission can be intense, yeah, I know, I've played the submissive role before, but this - this wasn't - this isn't - this isn't playing a role. This is -

Yes. I was melted down. Scattered into a million million atoms, and put back together the way you want me to be.

Truly yours...

Do I feel it? That question again, the third time one of us asks it - and every time we were deeper, further...


"Yes..." I whisper. "Yes, I feel it... and yes, I am different... yours... completely...

... and yes, I need a drink. Please," I sigh, my head leaning back against the leg of the desk. I feel like I've run a marathon...


You get up to get me a drink, and no, I don't want that - don't go -


Breathe, Sebastian.


You can do this. You are still a strong, capable soldier. Not a newborn kitten, despite what you might feel like. Just breathe.



My sweet Tiger... you seem so disoriented, hollowed out... I have to take care of you, make sure you feel grounded before we leave...

I caress your hair one more time before I leave to go to the kitchen. Being away from you feels like I've left a warm room and been expelled into cold air... I don't like it.

I peek into your pantry in case you need some soup. Jesus, when was the last time you bought groceries?

I fill a glass with cold water, and bring it to you.


"Here you go, darling" I say, placing it in your hand. "Or - did you mean a *drink*?"



I drink it down, the cold liquid pouring down my throat aiding in making reality more solid, my mind more clear. I take a deep breath, look at you. You are looking back at me assessingly, not in an unsympathetic way, but calculating what I might need, trying to ensure that I don't lack anything I might require... and I guess that's the other side of the ownership, isn't it, Jim? With great power comes great responsibility... if you want to own a Tiger, you have to know how to take care of it.


I smile at you, you smile back.

I don't know what else to say.


"Thank you."



Hmm... this experience is affecting you more than I realised... I'd had experiences dominating people before, but never to this level...


"You're welcome, darling..."


Why are we being formal all of a sudden? I feel like we're going to have a conversation about firing the gardener, or buying a horse.


"I'm getting you a real drink." I think I need a shot of something, too. "Where-?"


You point, and I follow your finger towards the liquor cabinet, where I swipe a bottle of whisky and a couple of glasses, and bring them to you.

We sit naked on the floor together, and clink glasses.

I neck half my whisky and cough. And sputter violently.


"Oh *god*," I mutter, and put my glass down. You stare at me, looking concerned.


And I realise - it's exactly what happened at the bar between you and Richard.

I throw back the remaining whisky, and have a coughing fit.


"It's *wretched*," I say hoarsely and grin at you.



 Oh yes, thanks - that water was good, but a proper drink is most welcome.

The whisky burns down my throat, the alcohol enters my blood, and I feel instantly calmer, less high strung. I take a deep breath, sigh -

and you explode into a fit of spluttering and coughing. Jim?

I try to assess if you need help - someone to pat your back?

No, you knock back the rest - and head straight into another coughing session.

I guess you don't like Aldi's Highland Black?


"It's fine," I grin. "It's won awards, you know."


"I really need to have a word with Alder... we should up the pay for assassins, so they can afford some decent booze..." You shake your head.


I laugh. "I like it. It's better if you let it breathe for a bit, but if you drink it straight from the bottle, it has a nice kick to it."


I realize we're talking normally again - the whisky seems to have done the trick. Thinking back to what happened - (kneel) - makes me shiver, but it's something that happened, not something that is still overwhelming me - not if I don't think about it too much, that is...

Bloody hell.


I look at you, scowling at the whisky bottle like you're not sure if you're going to smash it for the insolence.


"We better get moving..." I say.


I pull myself up, manage to stand upright. Help you get up, have a good stretch.

I think I'm sort of back in the real world again.



You're smiling and laughing again... and getting up. Drinking *does* have quite a calming effect on you - even something as wretched as this whisky. I file the information under categories Sebastian Moran: Psyche Overall, and Sebastian Moran: Things to Watch.

Whimsically, I have renamed the fattened file *The Care and Feeding of Your Tiger*, but I don't think I'll mention that to you. Not for a while yet.


I drag you into the bathroom for a quick rinse - in the shower I express dismay about your bath products as I tenderly wash you. You return the favour, and we kiss each other as we wash.

By the time we're drying off and I'm complaining about your towels, I check the time and realise how little time I have to pack.


"I'm not going to have time to try anything on!" I grumble, as we get dressed. "I'm going to have to get married in a suit that I haven't *tried on* since I bought it!" And I continue to gripe about this in the car until you shut me up with your mouth, and kiss me languidly until we've arrived at my penthouse.


"No sex, I need to pack" I warn you in the lift, in between kisses as you press me against the wall.

"I mean it," I murmur, as I unlock the door behind me and we stumble into the living room.



Don’t like my whisky, don’t like my body wash, don’t like my towels...

But it’s good-natured grumbling, a friendly ribbing, and I give as good as I get. “You’re awfully snobbish for a nouveau-riche” gets me a punch in the arm.


Your penthouse is huge and tastefully decorated, but I only have eyes for you - I’m on fire inside, kindled days ago but poked into a blaze earlier and not looking to die down any time soon...

I just want to drown in you over and over again...

You march me to... a fitness room?


“Tiger. Blow off some steam here while I pack, or we’ll never make that flight. It’s fifty minutes to Heathrow - you’ll get your chance to get your paws on me in the car,” you state, walk out, and - lock the door?!


Well. That’s me told.

I look around the room - excellently equipped. And you’re probably right, it’ll be good to blow off some steam, see how my strength is doing.

I head to the chest press machine, start pressing.



In my bedroom, I haul out my suitcase and throw it on the bed. Then I stand in my enormous walk-in cupboard and peruse the dazzling display of clothing I have to choose from. And shortlist. And neatly pack into a suitcase and garment bag in the next twenty minutes. A litany of curses rings out as I go through my choices and start making my selections.

As my suitcase fills up halfway, I realise I've only packed clothing and accessories. Clearly, I need to pack a few things of the 'enjoying your hot new husband' variety. I wander over to the section of the cupboard where I've stored my equipment. It feels like it's been forever since I used them... and mostly from my previous human life.


That reminds me - I need to make a call to my contacts at airport security. I usually have this done for me, but this has all been rather sudden and madcap. I place the call, and confirm details, while sliding various items into a black suede bag, including a travel restraint set, and a variety of travel-friendly implements to thrash you with. I have no idea what I'll be in the mood for, so it's good to be prepared.

By the time twenty minutes is up, my suitcase has been zipped close, I'm dressed and looking fabulous, and I'm checking my phone to access the video footage from hidden cameras in my penthouse. I select the fitness room camera and watch you as you work out.


Oh... my...


So many large muscles flexing...

So much *grunting*...


I've avoided staying at my penthouse very often, as I haven't really liked remembering my old human life... but living here is looking a whole lot better, when I'm finally married to you.

I watch for a minute longer, hearing various noises rise from my throat.

Then I saunter out to release my gorgeous fiancé from his masculine prison and take him to Vegas to marry me.



I’ve worked up a good sweat when I see you walk in.

I gasp - fuck, you look amazing. Head to toe in black; a suit with a subtle shine to it, black shirt and tie, black shoes, your hair slicked back, sunglasses - it’s dark, but who cares - you look astonishing.

I am tempted to pounce on you, but I’m aware I’m sweaty, so probably not the best idea... also, I only have to wait until we’re in the car.


I have the world’s quickest shower and throw on some clean clothes, then carry your suitcase to the car.

As I’m doing so, I realize there’s no reason for me to do so - you’re the stronger of the two of us. But - it just feels right...



As we leave through the front door (me looking polished and stunning, you looking so big and powerful next to my compact form), I feel downright smug about us as a couple. We fit differently since our time together in your flat. We move together differently. Your posture is one of deference and worship. Your eyes are scanning our environment for threats, and when we pass by someone on the street who stares at me, your eyes narrow. You look quite willing to put someone down on the ground for looking at me the wrong way, or speaking to me directly.

I love it. I've had bodyguards before, but not like *this*...


By the time we get to the car, I'm feeling downright arrogant. As the driver packs away our suitcases in the boot, you open the door and gallantly gesture at me to go in ahead of you. I slide in, gracefully and smirking.

You join me, and I take your hand.


As we drive to Heathrow, I look at the buildings we pass and my mind turns briefly to the cabals.

Then with an ease I haven't felt since before I was turned, I dismiss them from my mind.


Later, bloodsuckers.


The Vampire Moriarty is leaving London temporarily... and when he returns, it's a whole new game.

I lean my head against the seat cushion, and turn to look at you.


"On our way at last, Tiger... " I purr, and pull you down for a kiss.



I know that you are strong and powerful and what not, but I feel - protective, in a different way than I felt of Richard. Like a knight is protective of his King, not because the King is weak or vulnerable, but because he is so important and cherished.


When we’re in the car, you kiss me and I moan softly - the fire is still very much alive and only needs the slightest touch to blaze up fiercely again.

I want you, I want everything from you, everything with you, but we will be on a long flight soon, so I best make this count...

I press the division up between the driver and us, looking at you full of hunger.

Echoes from before...




My body trembles at the memory, my cock twitches...

I slide to my knees in front of you, lick my lips reverentially, move my hands to your trousers.



You’re looking at me with burning desire… *scorching* intensity. I watch you as you drop to your knees on the floor of the car and gaze up at me. Your hands are on my trousers, and I caress your hair.

You undo my trousers, start to pull them down along with my pants. I raise my hips and feel the fabric move down over my thighs. Slowly I push your head down towards my hardening cock.



You pushing my head down feels so hot, so right... wow, I’m on a submissive trip, aren’t I? But it’s more than that - it’s real, it’s proper, it’s the world always having been slightly off and suddenly falling into place.

I take you into my mouth, that beautiful strong cock, and begin my magic - I know I can do this well and I know you only deserve the best, so I give it my all...



My hands remain on your hair. My eyes close momentarily, as I feel your amazing lips and tongue. I hear a low groan in my throat.


No. Eyes open. I want to watch this - I want to watch you as you pleasure me. Oh god... your eyes are open too, and it’s so fucking intimate. I’ve never had a blow job like this... it didn’t even cross my mind that something that I always thought of as subservient could be *so fucking beautiful*.


“God...” I moan. “*Tiger*...”



It appears that the name has stuck, and I like it. Tigers are large and beautiful and fierce - and very protective...


I love your moan, the fingers tightening in my hair, your dark eyes looking down at me, the sunglasses having been moved into your pocket as we entered the car. The air between us feels charged with sexual tension, even as I am taking you in deeply. I moan, open my own trousers with one hand.



Oh god... so hot...

My eyes flick to where your hand is unfastening your trousers, and then back to you.


"Sebastian..." I growl softly. "Yes, *you may*... but remember, darling. *I come first*..."


I stare at you as you pause, then slowly return to what you were doing. Your eyes remain on mine, and it's a wonder the entire interior of the car doesn't combust into flames. Your trousers and pants are expertly peeled down, and your cock emerges. I glance down to watch your hand on your cock, and fuck that's beautiful, I'm going to need you to do this for me so often... not only to observe your technique, but because... oh my fucking god... *Sebastian*...


My hand presses harder against your head, and I moan loudly.



Your growl sends gooseflesh all down my body. Oh fuck... oh god, of course, I belong to you now - I can't just grab my cock without permission –

I moan against you in affirmation, and my cock pulses.


Why is it that this makes me so incredibly hot and happy? Me, who'd fight anyone who thought about telling me what to do... groaning with delight at being told what to do by some - vampire... but that's not it, it's not the fact that you're a vampire, I don't think - I mean, I'll have to try meeting another vampire, but I strongly suspect that it's just you, and that I'd have fallen for you when you were a human as well... if what you're saying is true, if you'd built up that entire criminal network by 25... you must have been quite something even as a human.


And with other people - I would be furious if they told me what to do because most of the time they were twats who didn't know what they were talking about, like my dad, like half the army commanders; and because they would be too weak to enforce their authority - I can't accept authority that isn't backed up by strength. Not necessarily physical strength - strength of will, of personality... but no one ever was a match for my stubbornness.


Until now... physical strength that can pick me up and throw me, and a personality that can bring me to my knees with just a look... fuck, what an effect you must have on others...


Your hand is pushing me down deeper, and I turn all my attention back to the task at hand, stroking myself as I move my head up and down with gusto.



I keep trying to watch your hand stroke your cock, watch your eyes on me, so *reverent*...

God, it's even more beautiful to see your expression than your lips on my cock...

my hand strokes your cheek, then returns to your head.


My fingers twist in your hair, and throwing my head back, I urge you on.


"God... fuck... *so good*..." I groan, and feel the first shivers begin to move through me.


I thrust into your mouth, holding your head in place, and my cries and gasps fill the car.



Oh yes, there we are... shivers, shocks, groans, gasps, cries even - that's right, my beautiful vampire, let yourself go, it's alright, I got you... I know exactly what you need...


And I'm giving it to you, giving you what no one else ever could give you, could they? Of course not... who could make you buck, writhe, whimper like this?


Come for me, my dark lord, my otherworldly prince, tasting vaguely of my inferior bodywash...


And yes, there you are, your lust filling my mouth, rewarding my efforts, and your nails are digging into my scalp, and I shiver, my hand moves faster, and I follow suit - my seed shooting against the seat as I gasp and moan, your cock still in my mouth.



I remain with eyes closed, head against the seat cushion, listening to your the last of your orgasm. After a long moment, I look down at you. With a purring noise in my throat, I caress your hair. Then I take your face in my hands and pull you into a kiss.


I look down at your face gazing at me with adoration, and gesture with my head to join me on the seat.

You do, fastening up your trousers, and exhaling slowly. I look down where your semen is on the seat in between my legs.


I shake my head with faux disapproval. "Well... *that* would have got someone punished spectacularly. I'll just have to find another reason to take a strap to you on our honeymoon..." I grin. I jump onto your lap, sling my arm around your shoulder, and bury my face in your neck.




... where am I...

... on my knees in a car, your cock shrinking in my mouth...

I lick the last of your semen up, look up at you, see you looking down at me. Your hand moves to my hair, and you pull me up, your mouth on mine... Jim...


You nod to the seat and I lift my body up, still feeling a bit disoriented - fuck, sex with you is a heady affair... not for the faint of heart...


And then you speak of punishment, and my poor cock tries to twitch again, despite just having been exhausted - god, you are going to be the death of me -

and then I have a lap full of Dark Lord, who suddenly seems a lot more like a Bunny again, grinning at me, cuddling close -


Definitely not for the faint of heart...


I wrap my arms around you, kiss the top of your head, whisper "I love you...

God, Jim… I love you..."



"Oh, my sweet Tiger..." I murmur back, pressing a hand against your cheek. "I love you, too."


I nuzzle your cheek. "You're all I care about in this godforsaken world, and I'm determined to keep you happy and sated and safe. And what I put my mind to, I achieve without question."

I lean my head against your shoulder, and sigh - dare I say it happily? I consider this outlandish thought, poke at it for weaknesses.

At least in this moment - I think, happiness.


"Oh, Tiger..." I breathe. "I don’t know how you accomplished it... but you've made a furious psychopath and a lost, mournful vampire put aside his negative feelings just long enough to feel blissful.” I stroke your cheek.

“I think I might even feel happy in this moment," I whisper as if I'm divulging a terrible secret. "But it's so strange that such a good feeling comes with an aching feeling... like, it *cuts me* to feel this way. I don't know why I should feel this way... I love you, and I get to have you for always.

Why would that *hurt*, Tiger?"



Your words make my heart swell up until I am afraid my chest is incapable of containing it ... it may break my ribs when it bursts out...


all I care about...

determined to keep you happy and sated and safe...


And then you talk about your own feelings - oh yes, it must be confusing for you... if you're really a psychopath, if you've never been in love... I mean - not that I am an expert...


"I don't know, my Jim," (my Jim) "maybe it's like when you're using a muscle that you never use? The heart is a muscle, after all... maybe it aches when you first use it, but that means it's getting stronger.

But I feel the same... it hurts, but it's also so good... maybe it's because of the intensity, I don't know...

All I know is that I never, ever want to lose this..."


I hold you close, my Dark Lord, who now is a little boy on my lap confessing to his fears, and you are all of this and more, you are my entire universe; I don't know what I did before I met you, what I thought, what I felt - how I was even alive... I was just an automaton, going through the motions, just a wooden puppet, who's now become a man...


My heart does expand, to envelop both of us, feeling your heart inside mine, not beating, but burning so intensely.

We sit like that for an eternity.

The car turns into a car park.




The rest of the journey I spend on your lap, with my head on your shoulder, being held by you.

I think about what you said... about learning to use my heart.

*Poor heart* - I barely heard a whisper from you when you were beating. Ever since you went still, I became more aware of you... and when Sebastian entered my life, it's like you were all I could hear. And maybe you're hurting because of all the ways I never listened... after I buried you under thick stone walls under the directive of my cold, flinty mind.

But I need you now, my heart... if I'm going to treat my Tiger as he deserves to be treated. If I'm going to enter into the devoted partnership I realise I've been longing for all along... you need to stay open. No matter what I say in the heat of the moment. No matter how much I scream and fight.

Because you are the only thing that lies in between me and becoming a true monster. And now that I have my sweet Sebastian, that *can't happen*.


You're the only line of defence, dear heart.


First and Last and Always.


And the line must hold.


When the car arrives at Heathrow, I turn to you and kiss you with a passion that seems to shocks us both.


"You will *never* lose this..." I whisper fervently. "I swear with all that I am. My heart is yours, and I leave it in your keeping."



I don’t know where that came from, what you were thinking while we were sat like this, but it’s so welcome...


“Thank you, my love... it’s the greatest gift imaginable, and I will take the utmost care of it. I will cherish it, and love it, and nourish it, and keep it safe, and do everything I can to keep it happy.”


I kiss you. We’re such soppy sweethearts... no one would guess we’re a vampire and an assassin...

The driver waits patiently for us to open the door. I grin at you, open it, get off your lap, exit on my side. He takes out our suitcases, I pick both up, and we head into the terminal.

You motion me towards a side door, where an airport employee is waiting. He leads us through, puts our suitcases on a trolley, and guides us through some mazy corridors to the first class lounge, telling us our suitcases will be brought to our car in Las Vegas.

I look at you appreciatively. And I wonder what you have in that suitcase, if it couldn’t travel through customs...

I hope you brought some weapons. I feel vulnerable without them.

We get, in your words, a decent whisky, and soon we’re told that our flight is up.



We settle into first class and before long, we're in the air. There's champagne, food, drinks... perusing the film selection, cuddling against each other, holding hands... whispering into each other's ears, and kissing sweetly... and whenever our eyes meet, I feel that current move through us. Just like from the night we met... when I had asked the very first time, "Did you feel that?"...

I still do. But I can hold off jumping you for a few hours... I think.


When you ask me what film I want to see, I select Twilight. You chuckle, and give me one of your big toothy grins.

God, I could look at you smiling for a century. Well, a *lifetime*. Don't think of that. (Fuck's sake, Jim.)

So we settle in to watch Twilight - at last! There are so many sly, knowing looks, and so much giggling.


And eventually we get to this part in the film:

Edward: And so the lion fell in love with the lamb…

Bella: What a stupid lamb...

Edward: What a sick, masochistic lion.


I turn to you and lift my headphones. You follow suit.


"You *are* a sick, masochistic Tiger... But if you call me a stupid Bunny, there will be hell to pay," I warn, making you snigger.



"I wouldn't dream of it. You'd have me thrown out of the door. And I'll accept masochistic - but sick? What's a little necrophilia between friends?"



My mouth drops open. “Necro-“ I stop, eyes narrowing.


“Oh, that’s clever, very clever, oh wait, *it’s not*. Do I look *dead* to you... eejit?” I growl, and gesture at myself. “Take a long, hard look, Sebastian. You might want to retract that assessment. Either way, you *are* paying for that... just not in public,” I say loftily and replace my headphones.



I grin at you widely. OK, that was maybe not the wisest thing to say. I thought it was funny, though.

You're staring at the film with a stern impression, which just serves to make me feel more impish. I nuzzle your neck, and you shoulder me away. I nuzzle back, and you shoulder again. I slide my hand up your leg, and you slap it. I moan softly in your ear at that, and you start giggling.



Oh, so now you want to be *affectionate*... I don’t think so, darling... I push you off me twice, and slap a wayward hand. Your moan has me giggling, despite my best intentions to stay grumpy at you. I pause the film, and look at you.


“Don’t think you’re getting off scot-free... or getting off full stop. Bad Tigers suffer consequences,” I murmur against your ear. “So if that’s what you were aiming for... mission accomplished!”



"I was joking, Jim... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," I smile.

But -

"Wait - I didn't actually hurt your feelings, did I? I mean - I know I can have a dark and cruel sense of humour - many soldiers have, it's the only way to stay sane - but - if I really did upset you, I'm really sorry... I'm not saying that to get out of punishment or whatever - I really don't want to make you feel bad."

I look at your face, try to read it. Did I fuck up already?



I shrug. "I'm not upset. I know you were joking..."


You continue looking at me, and I roll my eyes. "You don't think I would let you know if I were upset? You will *always* know if I'm unhappy about something. But OK, I'm still sensitive about the whole 'dead' thing... I had a death wish, yeah. But - I wasn't ready to go yet. And besides, it was *done to me*, and that I can't abide." I feel my eyes gleam. "Yeaaah, sooo... I still have some issues to work out... "



Anger rather than sadness, by the look of it - which is much easier to deal with.


"Yeah, I can't say I'm happy about someone killing you - quite the opposite..." I growl. "At least he's dead. Really dead, I mean. Ugh. Sorry, my mouth isn't always to be relied on to say the sanest things..."


I lean my head on your shoulder. "More Twilight? I have to admit, when you first invited me to a Twilight marathon, I hadn't expected it to take place in mid-air en route to our wedding..."

My hand finds yours, our fingers intertwine, I raise our hands up and kiss the back of yours.



"Mmm... neither did I. Well, as much as I was looking forward to snuggling on the sofa with a hot, beautiful man I got to come home with me... I'd rather watch it on a flight to our Vegas wedding, any day..." I lean in and kiss you.


As much as I'm enjoying the film, we miss a lot of it due to all the kissing and cooing and whispering, and suddenly I realise the credits are rolling.


"Shall we – mmm - snog through - New Moon next?" I ask you in between kisses.



I glance at the screen -

"Oh, it's finished? Did he save her? Must have done, there's four more films to come... I worry that we might not be able to finish them all on this flight, you know. We may have to watch some on the way back... Which should be fine, if we watch it in the same manner..." I nuzzle your ear, which causes the cutest gooseflesh on your arms...

The next film starts up. It may well be New Moon. It may also be Caligula. I'm sure I don't care.



"Oh, we won't get through them *all*... look at how much we've missed, we couldn't possibly keep up with the storyline. Especially once they start introducing a love triangle with an obnoxious lupine shapeshifter... the supposed soulmate of her future child, no less!" I say scathingly, and begin to kiss along your jawline as the film plays.



Why would I look at Edward Cullen when I have such a superior specimen right here? I have to admit I fancied Robert Pattinson when I first watched the films - but that was before I knew what vampires are supposed to look like... pale and dark and with eyes you drown in... though equally possessive, I grin. I don’t mind... I am so happy to be possessed...


The story might have gone in an entirely different direction if Bella had been equally keen. But who would kneel for Edward... not me. Brooding little sod.


Nah, the real deal... black eyes that make me shiver... a voice that caresses like a razor blade... kisses that make me melt...



We're not too far into New Moon when the hint of their impending separation occurs, and both of us immediately tense... it seems to remind us of Two Days that neither of us want to think about. We get more and more agitated and then - it happens. Edward leaves, Bella goes catatonic, and the months start flying by. We look at each other intently, and I see pain and sorrow in your eyes. I throw off my headphones, pull yours off, and once again we're in each other's arms, kissing madly.



Oh yes, that empty feeling... I can relate, Bella...

I recall I used to look down on her for being so inconsolable for so long. Goes to show you shouldn't judge people unless you've walked in their shoes... If I wouldn't have seen you again, what would I have done? It's not that I didn't want to move on or anything... it's just that my entire life suddenly seemed so meaningless...


Geez. I'm Bella Swan. Great...

You look at me, and you look scared - remembering the same time, my Jim?

And there we are, kissing again, confirming our togetherness in the face of stupid films which apparently got things more right than I expected.



I don't remember much of New Moon after this... there is far too much kissing, whispering, caressing to do...

God... everything has changed since your apartment. What would things have been like if...


*God*, I think in shock. This is all because that fucker Stiles showed up. Well, I still wish I could have killed him, I think to myself, sulking. In fact, I'm royally pissed off that I *shouldn't* if I want to be considerate of your *feelings*.


Stupid *feelings*. Stupid *love*...


I don't mean that. Yeah, I do, *a little*.


I nip your neck the next time I kiss you, making you shiver. I'll just channel all this silky, sulky rage into the next time I thrash you... and the next and the next... it's a good thing I've already decided to call you Tiger. You are going to be so *delightfully stripey*... I purr at the thought, and nuzzle your cheek.



Your teeth in my neck make me shiver delightfully. I find myself kind of looking forward to the next time you bite me, which definitely means I’m mental. But there’s something so delicious about offering up your throat to a predator... offering him your life blood...

I wish we weren’t on a plane... that session in the car was hot, but all this kissing and fondling makes me gasp for more already...

Though on the other hand, I’m getting quite tired again. I guess I am still feeling the consequences of the blood loss - and I had a good workout earlier, even though it was only half an hour.

I’m trying to pay attention to the film when you do, but my eyes keep falling closed, and I keep missing bits...



Oh, Se*bas*tian... I caught that shiver when I bit you... felt your surrender move through your muscles... you want to offer yourself to the vampire so soon? Mmm...

I give you a knowing look, but say nothing.

And then I notice your eyelids fluttering... ohh, poor Tiger. Still recovering from the last time...

That will *never* happen again... but I did enjoy your blood so very much...

And I am no Edward Cullen - I will happily take your blood, my darling. And give you just a taste of mine...


“Sleep, Sebastian... I murmur. “You need rest, and Twilight can wait. I’ll watch over you...”


Your eyes stay closed, but there’s a smile on your lips. I nestle against you, and feel your breathing grow slower and deeper.


Mmm... I can’t wait to get off this stupid plane. I want you all to myself in a dark room... naked and trembling and at my mercy.



When I wake up, my favourite film is playing, Time To Destination. And it's only an hour.


You smile at me.

"Hey, sleeping beauty... had a good nap?"


"I did, actually..." I yawn and stretch. "Wow - I've been out for hours. Sorry..."


"It's fine," you smile. "You need to regain your strength...


“They came round with food when you were asleep but I didn't want to wake you - he said to let him know when you would like it."


Oh, food, yes... good idea. The moment you mention it my stomach starts grumbling. It's been ages since our last meal - that was when we'd just got on the plane. Though to be fair, I did eat most of yours...

You ring the steward and he brings a tray of delicious-smelling fare for both of us. Again, I eat most of your food, though you have a nibble here and there for the taste, and we have a glass of wine each.

This reminds me though -


"You will probably need to eat when we've landed?"



I'm sipping my wine when you ask. I swallow and twirl my glass, staring at the red liquid swirling inside.

I look up at you.


"I want to be at my best for our wedding... not thinking of how hungry I am. So, yes. I will. I can pop out to a bar for a drunk tourist, and meet you back at the hotel? It won't take me long... just a quickie."

I grin at your surprised expression. "*That* was for the little wisecrack about necrophilia, darling..."

I toss back the rest of the wine, and lick my lips with satisfaction.



Yes... of course.

It is so weird to think of you having to go and - kill someone -

I mean, it's not that I have a problem with you going and killing people - but living off their blood - it's just a very alien concept.

And I worry - you going out on your own, in an unknown environment...

... but what use would I be?

Hold on - unknown environment -


"What are you going to do with the body? It will raise suspicions if a body is found drained of blood..."



"Not to worry, my dear. I already connected with an American business partner, and he's hooked me up with locals. The body will be dealt with... it's not my first rodeo, Sebastian," I drawl, and tip an imaginary ten-gallon hat.

"Not that I've *technically* been to a rodeo. Should we visit a rodeo?" I gaze off for a moment. "Not that I don't appreciate kitsch, but... god, that's a bit much, isn't it. No rodeos, then..."


You seem lost in thought. "Are you going to be OK with this, Sebastian? You could come with me for my safety if you prefer, but... I'm not sure that would make you feel any better...?"




for the first time, I don't know, Jim.

Like I said, I don't have a problem with killing people - one every night is a bit more than my usual rate, but hey, you are saving a hell of a lot of cows and chickens from being eaten.

But the risk... of someone seeing you, harming you... just the thought of you going out on your own and me waiting for you to come back and just... waiting forever...

it closes my throat, makes it hard to breathe.


"If I wouldn't be in your way... I would like that, yes." I admit.



I observe you closely. "All right," I concede. "You can come with me to the bar. Just... stay at a distance when I'm doing it..." I say carefully.

Contract killing proclivities aside, you're still human (Still?? No, *just human*, I tell myself firmly)... and I have no idea how you'll react to seeing a vampire literally sucking the life out of someone.

Like... could you potentially realise you don't want to be with a bloodsucking fiend...?

Fuck... I better pick someone *fucking* obnoxious... I suspect Vegas will be rife with them...


"I promise to choose someone deplorable..." I assure you, placing my hand on your arm. "*Hateful*, if I can..."



Oh sweetheart... are you afraid I will get upset?


“Jim... you don’t need to worry about that. I don’t much approve of people, in general. I don’t get upset when they die. There are only a few people whose death would distress me, and none of them are in Vegas.”


You look at me. “Who are they?” you ask, carefully neutral.


“You, in the first place,” I reply. “Then my mother, my grandmother, Demmings, Stiles - thanks for not killing him, I know it was hard on you - and I guess Hoyle.

So that’s five people I’d rather you didn’t kill, leaves you seven billion others that are fair game.

Honestly, darling ... it won’t bother me. But thank you for thinking of me.”


I move sideways, trying not to disturb the trays, and kiss your neck.



I narrow my eyes as you kiss my neck - fucking *Stiles* again. "*Hard* on me, yes... so very hard..." I say in a soft purr that spills over the edges into a growl. "It took monumental effort, and I'll thank you not to forget..."


You look up at me in concern, and I stroke your face. "But you can make it up to me, never fear... in so many ways, over and over again, until I'm satisfied..." I whisper, and kiss your lips.


Then I beam at you. "Well! I'm delighted that you're not having a crisis at the thought of me sucking someone's neck like a juicy peach." Was that too vivid an image? My mouth is watering at the thought... it's all I can do not to lick my lips lasciviously. *God*, do I need a good meal... and then a good lay.

"It'll be over before you know it, and then we can have the day to ourselves before the main event..." I say, distracted at the thought of biting into a juicy neck. Mmm... *want*....



Jesus Christ, mentioning Stiles still gets your hackles up, doesn’t it? Oh well - he’ll only be in London for a few weeks, and after that not even your extensive network will be able to find him.


Make it up to you... god, yes... I look forward to that... do you have to eat before we can start? I mean, a ten-hour flight with a lot of kissing and groping does have its effect on a man...

But it’s probably good if we don’t have to rush...

I’m all refreshed after my sleep, can’t wait to be in the hotel with you, in the honeymoon suite, a day early but who cares, using that gigantic bed...

Yes, Moran, other thoughts, now... or we may be thrown out of the plane for public indecency...


“I love you... and I can’t wait to have a full day with you to do in what we want...”

I swallow, then say the words I was really thinking: “Everything you want...”



"I love you too, Tiger..." I whisper. I'm staring at you so hungrily... smelling you, trailing my hands along your chest...


Shit... I went too long without blood. You're not in danger from me, I love you too much to risk your health. But everything is about sex and blood to me right now...


"Everything I want sounds good to me..." I breathe, and lick your neck.



Don't lick my neck... it gives me gooseflesh... I want you so fucking much...

I try to distract myself by eating food and drinking more wine, but it has little effect.

Fortunately when I finish, we are about to land, and have to put our seats upright and put on seatbelts and all that stuff that makes actually jumping on and ravaging your fiancé trickier.


When we leave the plane, an unassuming official takes us through another door, and before I know it, we're outside in pleasant desert air, and a driver is holding open the door to a black car.

Impressive, James Moriarty....



In the car, we finally have some privacy... and I give you a fierce smile before lunging at you and straddling you. I plaster myself against your body and kiss you feverishly.


“Want you,” I growl.



Chapter Text

Kill, Fuck, Die
All you get from life's
Kill, Fuck, Die
Yeah you're gonna die
Kill, Fuck, Die
All you get from life's
Kill, Fuck, Die



God, yes -

I don't know how far the hotel is and I don't care - I don't care if the driver opens the door on us fucking - I don't give a flying fuck about anything except you, you, you -

Urgency rushes through me as I kiss you and pull at your clothes.



I have to stop myself from tearing your clothes... I try hard to keep my fangs from elongating, but they do come down a little... I can’t help it... I want to drain the world dry. I’m growling as I unfasten your trousers, yank them down over your hips.

“Fuck...” I groan, as mine come down, and my cock emerges from my pants. I scramble to pull the lube from my pocket before you throw aside my jacket.

“Fuck me,” I gasp before devouring your lips.



Fuck, yes - yes, fuck - my mental vocabulary has been reduced to those two words, but what it lacks in diversity it makes up for in intensity -


Thank god you have a habit of ordering limos which have loads of space - I wonder if you do it on purpose -

I move you off my lap, move around, pulling you back, so your legs come down, your arms leaning on the seat as you kneel on the floor - is this alright? It seems to be - I'm sure you have no qualms about protesting if you object to something -

I lean over you, kiss your back, bite your pristine skin, open the lube, start preparing you - not a lot of time, Jim - please be ready Jim, please don't stop me Jim -

I put some lube on my cock - I can't wait any longer -

"Ready?" I breathe.



“God - just - fuck - me,” I snarl, and shove my arse back against you. You don’t hesitate for a moment, and I feel your slicked-up cock rubbing against me. And then you breach my entrance, and you’re *in*, and I’m moaning as you push in deeper. “Oh god,” I whisper raggedly. “Fuck, yes...”



Oh god oh god oh GOD...

You feel so incredibly good - I have longed for this so long - oh god...

I have no perception of anything, I am just my cock, as the most intense pleasure fathomable grips it, as you, you, YOU move against me, groan, whisper, gasp -

I want to roar but there's something that tells me I shouldn't, not sure why, but there was something important that means I don't make too much noise, and that's fine, it's not the noise that is important, it's you, you, YOU who are important, and my cock, my cock in your magnificent arse, and the time we've been apart, well, not apart, but in two bodies, and that is wrong, we need to be one, always, alwaysalwaysalways -

One being, one pleasure - oh yes pleasure - I reach round, find your cock, rock hard and leaking, I love your cock, I lovelovelove it so much, I wish I could kiss it, but I can't from here, but I can stroke it, love it, make it get even harder and stronger and oh GOD...



I didn’t fully trust myself as the sexual aggressor, not while I’m so hungry, but it’s so important that I get some of this desire out, and you are fucking me so good, darling, oh my Tiger, yesyes*yes*... I thrust back against you growling, and I hear the music from the front of the car get louder, which makes me laugh and I sound so fucking predatory, and then you’re grasping my cock and stroking it and fuuuuck, so fucking good... “God, yesss... Tiger, harder... *harder*...” I growl and throw my head back against your chest, shivering.



Harder - oh god yes harder - I can do harder - there is nothing I want more than feel you, feel you harder, feel you more, because you are the best feeling in the world... nothing, nothing can compare to this, no other lover, no drug, I'm sure that even Buddhists who meditate for fifty years to achieve Nirvana don't even get close to this, and my hand grips the seat and my eyes screw shut and I groan between my teeth as I go harder, as I rub you harder, and the universe contracts into a tiny pinpoint in my balls, which expands and shoots through me into you and it is indescribable... I hear a sound echoing from the car roof - car? - which must be my voice, but it's unlike I've ever heard it - oh GOD



I'm leaning back against your chest, and then I rest my head on your shoulder as you come, and... oh... *oh*... I'm so turned on by your sudden violent thrusting into me, your crying out, that I tumble into orgasm. As you're panting and experiencing aftershocks, I'm shivering and moaning, and I shoot against the seat and your hand.

"Oh... Tiger..." I murmur. "I love you *so fucking much*..."




Sensational blackness...

Sensation so strong my other senses are no longer functioning...

Slow realization of presence... of self, of other... love... Jim... Jim speaking love...

Jim... fiancé... Vegas... oh god...

Car - oh yes, car...

Car appears to have stopped. I guess we’re there then...

I smile at the second driver today having had to deal with us fucking in their car. Well, my libido has always been rather large - and you’re so incredibly hot...

I kiss your back, slowly pull out, move to the side. I look at the semen on the seat and grin at you.



I collapse onto the seat, avoiding the sticky patch. My head rests against the backrest, and I look up at you lazily.

"I believe there are wet wipes in the pocket of my blazer, if you'd be so very kind?"

You tersely tell the driver we'll be out in a moment. Then you look for the blazer, thrown haphazardly on the seat, and dig through the pockets. I reach out my hand, but you take the wet wipe and clean off the remains of our backseat fucking. Then you take another to clean me off and yourself, before throwing the wet wipes into a small receptacle hanging off the wall of the car.

"Thank you, darling..." I say and give you a kiss. I do love being taken care of... who knew?

Then we're quickly getting ready, and straightening each other's rumpled clothing. I look up at you with a saucy smile, and you wink at me.

This is my life now, I find myself thinking. My heart glows.

"Ready, baby?" you ask and I nod, and then we're exiting the car and heading into our hotel. As our valet leads the way with our baggage, we cross the lobby, holding hands and smiling.



We’re led to the lifts. The hotel is a bit posher than I’d normally care for, but only the best for my husband-to-be...

The honeymoon suite is huge, the bed sufficient for a small army. The bathroom has a sunken round tub with what looks like a jacuzzi function, we overlook the lights of the strip through panorama windows.

I put dollars into the valet’s hand and thank him emphatically while he makes an effort to show us the amenities. He gets the hint and heads off.

I flop onto the bed.

Right... how do you broach a subject like this?

“I don’t think they do room service, so shall we go out for dinner?”



I'm rifling through my belongings for a fresh outfit, when you pose your carefully worded question.

I look up, then cross to the bed and throw myself next to you. Lying on my stomach, I gaze at you sprawled across the bed. It's a giant bed, and still you take up *so much space*...

*god*, that's hot...

"If you mean what I think you mean... *no one* does that kind of room service... and what an untapped market!" I tap my lips with fingers, considering.

"Oh, yes... dinner. Let me change, and we can go. I'm sure there must be some drunk fools out there who left their life savings on a roulette wheel... they must be in dire need of distraction. Once I help them find an answer to their little problem, we can rustle up dinner for you. Good?"

I wrap my arms around your neck, and stare at you. "You're sure you want to come with me?"



“I don’t need dinner... I had four on the plane.

And yes, I want to come with you. First of all because I’d be worrying myself sick if I didn’t... but also because I don’t want you to feel that it’s something that you must hide from me. It seems that you are a bit worried that I might find it scary or upsetting, and I don’t want you to feel that way.”



I look at you for a long moment, and smile. "Alright. But if you get close, you're going to catch an eyeful. I'm not going to hold back..."

You stroke my face, gazing at me adoringly. Ooh. *Tiger*. I lean in to kiss you, longingly. "Well the sooner I eat, the sooner we get back here. I'm just going to get pretty and we can go."

I return to my suitcase, select a light leather jacket, white v-neck t-shirt, and jeans. I saunter over to the full-length mirror to dress so I can watch you watch me. I strip off my clothes languorously and sneak a peek at you. You’re transfixed. Satisfied, I pull on my clothes. I model my outfit, and you look at me in surprise.

I shrug. “Know your audience... is someone drunk and dejected more likely to follow someone in a posh suit, or... someone who’s a little more relatable?”

I twirl in front of the mirror. “What do you think? If you saw me in a bar, would you want to fuck me then and there?”



You look so incredibly hot in that outfit - fuck me...

... come on Seb, again?! You came like twenty minutes ago!

You’re going to be the death of me...

“I do want to fuck you here and now, so yes... you look absolutely gorgeous. I’m going to have to do my very best to not spill a drink on whoever you pick...”

You smile at that, move over, kiss me deeply. I melt away again... forgetting the room, your need for food, the location, everything...

I blink slowly as you break off the kiss.

“Wow. You’re a heady drug, Jim...”

I shake my head to clear it. “Right. Let’s hit the town, before you faint from hunger. I’m keen to see an apex predator hunt...”



I kiss you again, then stare at you intently. "Alright then... join me on my hunt, darling."

I rise seemingly weightlessly on the bed, and extend my hand to you. You give me your hand, and I pull you up. Then I step off the bed, and you trail after me.

Wordlessly, you pull on your leather jacket and follow me to the door.

We walk down the hall, and when we get into the lift, you slide your arms around me. We look at each other in the mirror.

"We totally look like we're together," I chuckle, eyeing our leather jackets.

You begin to say you can go back and change, and I wave off your concern. "It's fine. As long as we're not both going up to someone to talk to them..." I kiss you fondly - god, I really can't seem to stop myself. How did we get so wrapped up in each other in a *few days*?

"Sebastian and Richard 4eva," I whisper into your ear, and by the time the lift door opens to the lobby, you're pressed against me, and we're kissing like teenagers.

There's some drunk cheering from a waiting group. I smile slyly, grab your hand, and pull you past them and through the lobby. We head towards the front doors, and into the night. I breathe in the smells around me, stare off in one direction. Then I tilt my head at you, and begin to walk towards a cocktail of intense emotions. I don't know what bar we're heading to, and I don't need to know.



I enter the bar, as I’ve entered so many bars so many times before. I’ve even entered a bar in order to kill someone once or twice. But it feels weird now, here. I’m a bit behind you, so we don’t look together, head in a different direction, but I’m incredibly aware of your presence, even with my back to you.

Everyone in this place is impressively drunk. I wonder if you get tipsy if you drink one of these guys? Also - why do I assume you’re going for a guy? You might go for one of the women slumped on a stool, their sexy clothes dishevelled, their makeup smudged.

I guess I better get a drink...

I order a beer from a barman who looks like he’s been in here since last week, set myself on a chair in a corner in Do Not Disturb mode. I’m good at being noticed when I want to, but I can also blend into the background when needed...

I’d have to be decidedly pissed myself to find anyone attractive in this place. I always dislike entering a bar way past midnight sober.



I consider my options. I'm narcissistic enough that I prefer my victims be somewhat attractive. Ironically, the world is becoming less so, as I keep removing attractive people from it. Ah well... I can't bring myself to stick my teeth into someone sweaty or downright homely... imagine! Hot messes I'm fine with. There are a few here to choose from... but I'm going to let the right candidate come to me.

I settle myself into a bar stool, and strike a brooding, lonely pose. I order a G&T and when it arrives, I stir it for a moment before taking a sip. I glance at you, and your eyes flicker over me. OK, Tiger... you wanted to be here for the hunt? Get ready... the prey is approaching. I feel its presence before it arrives. Female... angry... bitter. She slides onto the barstool next to mine. Orders a martini, and glances at me. Asks me if I'm here alone. Then tells me she loves my accent - Australian?

Alright, then. I suppress an eye roll, and get her talking. It's not hard - she's feeling hard done by. She's here for a conference. She hates the organization she works with. The co-worker she's been having an affair with has broken it off. I make the appropriate responses and sympathetic noises, tell her she's too good for that man, and he obviously had commitment issues - oh, he's gone back to his wife? The cheek on him, after everything they shared! She'll find someone better, beautiful woman like her. That gets her attention right quick. She asks if I'd like to go back to her hotel for somewhere quiet to 'talk'. Absolutely. (Told you it would be a quickie.) I pay our bills, and bitterness forgotten, she's downright giddy as she slides off her stool.

I give her my arm, and escort her outside. From the corner of my eye, I see you slip from your bar stool.

I ask her if she'd like to go down a side street first, for a better view of the moon. She thinks I'm a romantic fool, laughs drunkenly and tells me what a cutie-pie I am. But she comes along with me, giggling incessantly all the way. The shadow behind us keeps at a distance. By the time the shadow catches up with us, I'm kissing her neck in an alcove, and she's swaying.

I glance up at you as you watch with fascination. Ohh... is that the way it is, Tiger? My eyes glow at you. I part my lips and show you my fangs. Then I sink them into her neck. She goes limp - I don't know if it's her blood alcohol level, or my vampire charm. I'm focused on you, watching as I drink from her sensuously. I make a purring sound in my throat, and stare at you with hunger.



The woman who approaches you looks angry, but not too drunk, and reasonably attractive. She starts talking with you, and I have to restrain myself from jumping up and punching her out cold when she starts the flirtatious moves, the hand ‘accidentally’ touching your arm, her hair being flicked back - it’s disgusting -

You’re taking her outside - or she’s taking you. I follow.

Now the moment is here, I actually feel a bit - nervous? What will it be like to actually see a vampire drink? I’ve never seen it happen; I was pretty much out of it when you did it to me... I still can only half believe it is real, despite the evidence I’ve seen of your other weird abilities, and your tears...

I start getting pissed off with the way she’s hanging off you, giggling at you, and the way you’re smiling at her - how dare she -

calm down Tiger. That’s your fake smile... even though it looks so real... that’s just because you’re such a good actor...

I get antsy when I see you kiss her neck, but then I recall what those kisses are a prelude to, and I move as close as I dare, to see how you hunt and kill...

You look at me quickly, smile your fangs at me - that small gesture of complicity, that you haven’t forgotten me in your quest for food, that I’m here with you... it means a lot.

... and then your fangs are in her neck. So quickly, so easily - such willing prey. You drink, and as you do you are watching me, and somehow it’s almost erotic, seeing you drink the life out of another human, and that’s really not a healthy sentiment probably, but I don’t care - it looks so enticing, I almost wish it was me lying limp in your arms, held up effortlessly, surrendering...

You’re staring at me with glowing eyes, occasionally closing as you enjoy your food, like a pleased cat’s.

The body is dropped behind some bins and you are beside me, grasping me, then hesitating for a second -

I break the hesitation by pushing my mouth against yours and kissing you deeply, tasting the blood, tasting you, feeling your fangs, feeling them retract, feeling your hands all over my body –



It's like being caught in a fever dream...

I've never experienced anything like it.

Yes, it's a sensual, sensuous sensation to feed, especially when I'm experiencing intense bloodlust...

But I've never been *watched* before...

never looked into someone's eyes as I drank the lifeblood of a victim...

stared into someone's eyes, filled with their hunger for me...

not just someone... *you*...

it's *exciting* you, isn't it...

I see the lust in your eyes, burning...

I stalk towards you, pulling you against me... but will you want to kiss me when I just now-

you interrupt my thoughts, kissing me,

*licking* me, tasting the blood on my tongue...

oh fuck, oh god...

you are my *perfect* mate.

And I will have you here, not minutes away, not in an airtight hotel,

no, *here*, under the black sky, kissed by the moon,

the living night in our veins,

here in the alley, where the body of my victim lies cooling,

and you feel no abhorrence, no disgust or fear,

only lust and desire and a mad, mad love that makes me want to scream out to the stars, demanding they shine their blessings down onto us.

I slide my hands along your arms, your chest... and down further still.

You're hard, and I want you, *I want you*...

I kiss you feverishly, and yank down your trousers over your hips. Then I push you down onto the ground, onto your knees, leaning against the brick wall of the alcove.

I kneel behind you, and lick your neck. I pull down my trousers, and lube from my jacket pocket.

"You liked what you saw..." I say, a low growl in my throat, as I prepare myself and you. "The hunt... the predator in me... makes you so bloody hot... and ohh, Sebastian... I like that... so *very much*, darling..."

I bite your neck possessively, with just a hint of fangs. Hearing you groan, I prod your opening with my slicked cock.

"Mmm... hottest kill ever, honey..." I purr, and push into you slowly.



You’re magnificent, a shining apex predator beaming your power and strength into the night, attracting me - also your prey, but in a different way.

I’m drowning in you, the taste of blood, the beauty of the desert night, the sensation of your hands, over me... on me...

My trousers are pushed down, then I am, and it’s my turn to be caught by the hunter, on my knees, his fangs in my neck, his cock entering me...


It’s perfect, absolutely perfect, the slight ache as I am stretched, my cock trembling with delight and desire, the teeth in my neck, ready to kill if they wanted, my hands scratching at the brick wall, as I am hunted, captured, taken... no niceties and preliminaries, just raw naked primal lust, predator taking, prey giving, in the ultimate balance of nature, the natural order in which you are on top; my love, my lord...

You are hard, deep, forceful, strong, and I feel so incredibly in love, and lust, as I writhe underneath you, my body serving you to slake your thirst, I love love love this, love being used by you; there is nothing better in the world...



"Fuck *yes*, Sebastian," I growl. "I *want* you on the hunt with me..."

I twist my fingers in your wavy hair, and pull your head back. I bury my face in your neck, breathe in your scent. A rumbling purr sounds in my throat.

"Oh, *fuck*," I moan, and slide my face against yours as I rock my hips against you. I reach for your cock and begin to stroke you, burying myself inside you again and again.

"So beautiful," I murmur. "Oh god... Sebastian..."



My head is pulled back, I’m held fast against you as you thrust into me, and then your hand reaches for me, and feeling you around me as well as inside me, feeling your body against my back, hearing your voice in my ears...

I’m in heaven, heaven is an alley in Vegas, with a vampire as my saving angel... saying I’m beautiful, and I believe you in this moment; I feel ten miles high...

Your thrusts come faster, as do the movements of your wrist, and I could come here and now, but I must restrain myself, because you come first... because you own me...

... and just thinking that is so fucking hot... just - Jim - please –



I'm groaning loudly as I get closer... closer...

"Fuck, yes," I gasp, then throw an arm over your shoulder and around your chest. I pull you against me as I'm thrusting into you over and over.

An explosion rocks me, and I shiver violently against you, moaning with pleasure.

As I collapse against you, I resume stroking your cock, and feel you thrusting hard into my hand.

Slowly I pull out, not breaking the pace.

"Mmm, I want to feel you come, Tiger..." I whisper.

Your head flies back and almost immediately, you're gasping for air hoarsely, and arching your back. God, this is so fucking hot...


I watch as you break into tiny pieces, scattered throughout the universe...


You lean back against me, panting.

I wrap my arms around you, supporting your weight.

"I love you," I whisper, and you repeat it to me. softly.

"As romantic as the alley is, let's go back to the hotel..." I murmur into your ear.

Handing us each a wet wipe, we clean ourselves off, and slowly get dressed.

Then after I send a text to the American contact regarding the location of the body, we're strolling back to our hotel, hand in hand.

"Tell me the truth, Sebastian... were you OK with seeing me feed?" I ask cautiously, but a sly smile breaks the surface. "Because I know I was distracted by drinking all that lovely blood, but... I could swear you were enjoying watching me!"



“I did... it was a bit double. On the one hand I hated seeing you being flirted at, smiling at that woman, even though I knew you were acting. Seeing you bite her, drink her - it was good to see it for real, I guess. It is such an alien concept - that you actually are a vampire who actually drinks blood...

not a repellent concept,” I quickly add, “just - hard to realize it is actually real until you see it.”

I smile slightly.

“And... to tell you the truth, it looked erotic. Intimate. I almost wished it was me there, lying in your arms, surrendering to your sharp kiss... not to be killed, preferably, but being drunk by you, tasted, savoured like an exquisite wine, as you hold me, caress me... that seems a very attractive prospect.”

I look at your face. “Do you think that’s weird?”



I listen to you carefully as we walk. I suspect I read your expression accurately, but I need to hear it from you.



*almost wished it was me*


Ohhh, *sharp kiss*...

A smile spreads across my face slowly. "Does it sound weird? It sounds like the goddess Fortuna either decided I'd had enough shit in my life and post-life, and whispered to me to go to that club... *or* just randomly decided to spin the wheel the night I met you."

I stop walking, and pull you towards me. "Do you realise what a long shot this was, Sebastian - that I met the most beautiful man I've ever seen, and then fell in love, and then it turned out not only he doesn't mind that I'm a vampire... he thinks it's hot?"

"Wait - who is this man who thinks it hot?" you ask in mock indignation, and I swat you.

"The beautiful idiot in front of me," I retort, and you laugh. "Stop it. I'm serious!"

You open your mouth.

"Sebastian," I interrupt, "if you say 'nice to meet you, Serious' I swear to Christ, I will give you your almost-wish and drain you dry."

Your mouth snaps shut. "You can't know what I was going to say..." you protest, but your eyes are dancing.

"Oh, can't I..." I say drily. "It turns out the beautiful idiot is also cheeky, and infuriating, and -"

You pull me into a kiss, and I forget everything as our lips and tongues taste each other. My fingers dig into your arms, and when we break apart, I look up at you in a daze. "Oh... what was I saying?"

"Fortuna has favoured you with a beautiful idiot who finds it hot that you're a vampire," you say, smiling at me.

I giggle. "I'm the luckiest vampire in the world. And as for finding the prospect of me drinking from you enticing..." I lean in and lick your neck. "it can be arranged, darling..." I whisper into your ear. "I would like to see what it's like to drink for pleasure... and drink you like luscious nectar..." I purr, caressing your neck and breathing you in.



"Sounds... dreamy..." I mutter.

"I'm not a vampire though - I will need some time to recover, my darling... is that OK with you? Shall we just - have a drink in the garden or something? It's a lovely night... we can just talk? Give me an hour or so... and then - I can't wait to have my last night of extramarital sex..."

You smile. "Of course, my Tiger... Do I look alright? No blood on my chin?"

You turn to me. You look - wow. You look stunning. I'd use the word 'glowing'. Your eyes are dark and gleaming, the white in stark contrast to the irises. Your pale face illuminated in the moonlight almost shines. I'd swear even your hair looks thicker, more luscious - you look amazing.

"Yeah, you're - good..." I stutter.

We get to the hotel, where several couples are chatting at small tables in the garden. You order a bottle of champagne, tell the waitress with a big proud grin that we're getting married tomorrow. Her delighted smile seems genuine as she congratulates us, and leads us to the back of the garden, where there are a few tables secluded by hedges, that are not immediately visible from the rest of the patio.

"I'll bring you your champagne and then I'll leave you two to talk and not disturb you," she says. "But if there's anything you need, just shout."

She heads off as we settle in the comfortable chairs. I'm a bit surprised at first at the deep leather chairs being outside - but of course, it doesn't rain all that often here.

I am still gazing at your face in the light of the moon and the single flickering candle on the table.

"Jim... I'm sure I've said this before, but you are so incredibly beautiful..."



“Darling... you can tell me I’m beautiful every day and every night, and I’ll never tire of it.”

I give you a lazy smile, and run my hand through my hair. I lean back in my chair, and cross one leg over the other.

“And thank you,” I say, with all the demureness I can muster... which is to say, none at all, and my tongue flicks out at you enticingly.

The glazed look in your eye is delightful. An hour or so? Give me 45 minutes. I’ll have you dragging me to our hotel room.

God, I love blood...

The waitress arrives, pops our champagne bottle, asks if we need anything else, and disappears. Big tip coming your way, sweetheart.

You pour for both of us, and hand me a flute of fizzing liquid.

“What shall we toast? To-“ you start, and I interrupt.

“To making you pop like this fine champagne,” I say sweetly, and lift my glass. *Clink*.

Your eyes glaze over again as I sip my champagne, and lick the drop that escapes over the rim of the glass.

“Mmm,” I say innocently. “I just love how the bubbles feel against my tongue...Don’t you, Sebastian?”



"Jim... are you having a contest with nature? Because there's no question that you are winning..." I smile.

"In fact, if you can be tempted to try some... ah, foreplay..." I almost stumble over my words, and feel myself blushing, "I'm sure that I'll be... up for whatever else you might require quite soon..."

Right. Sebastian Moran blushing bright red like a virginal schoolboy. It's probably hidden by the night, but I feel my face growing very hot. Good grief.

But - I hardly know you, I mean -


I know I have fallen for you like a ton of bricks. I know I love you, and you love me, and - you own me - that mad trip in my flat - fuck...

I just want to feel more secure in that - I want to feel myself held by you, moved by you, forced by you, restrained by you - fuck, I want you -

My breaths are coming fast and shallow.

"I think we could take the bottle up to our room..." I say, my breath halting.



Hmmm... blushing? Sebastian?

How *delightful*...

all that delicious blood rushing to your face to let me know... what?

You want more - more of what I do to you. To feel more - mine.

"I'm tempted to try some foreplay right *now*..." I say leaning forward, running my hand over your knee and up your thigh. "Right here..." I whisper, my hands on the armrests and leaning over you.

"But if I'm going to strip you naked and coax magnificent sounds from you, then... the room would be more comfortable."

I take some money from my wallet, and throw it on the table. "Take the bottle. We can do what we want."

I head for the hotel lobby, sensing you close behind me. We cross the lobby, you catching up and grabbing my hand. We smile at each other as we walk to the lift.

There are people all around us, and we're the only ones in the world.

In the lift, I press my back against you, and feel your erection against me.

How long did that take? Twenty minutes? I *am* good...

I give you a smouldering smile, and your eyes blaze.



Woosh. That's one lit-up Tiger. Your eyes shine mischievously, promisingly, hungrily (suddenly I'm not sure if I'll survive this honeymoon even if you don't drink from me...) and Little Seb is very clear in that he'll be happy to try anything you want right away yes Sir Jim Moriarty Sir.

We walk to our suite, the bottle loosely in my hand, put on a table, promptly forgotten, as I have all the beauty of the night right here in my arms, pressing himself against me, kissing me, grasping me, and I am trembling with - lust, love, I don't know, it's not like I have a lot of experience in this field, but want definitely...

"Jim - oh fuck Jim," I whisper against your hair.

"I want you - please -"



"Oh, my sweet Sebastian..." I murmur as I push you onto the bed. "Why do you think we came back to the room? To look at china patterns?"

I climb onto you, straddling you, and grinding my pelvis against yours. "No... I believe you wanted a final night of illicit fucking..." My eyes flash with amusement, and then desire. I kiss you urgently, and look down at you. Your eyes are half closed and your breathing is ragged.

"Don't. Move. Tiger," I whisper in your ear, and slip off you. I rifle through my suitcase and find the canvas bag with the travel restraint set.

I approach you lightning fast, and pull you up to lean against the headboard. I prop pillows behind your back and under your arse, and then quickly secure you to the headboard, arms stretching up the bedposts.

"Knees up," I growl. "Open for me..."

You do so, gazing at me hungrily, and I stare back at the brazen display of my Tiger longing to be fucked by me.

I kneel in between your thighs and run my hands over the restraints.

"The night before your wedding is traditionally the last night as a free man, yes?" I remark lazily, and arch an eyebrow. "Only you stopped being free the moment you knelt for me..." I twist my hand through your hair, and pull your head back.

Your eyes glaze over, god they've been doing that ever since you saw me feed...

I smile. That's quite a case of predator lust you have... I *love* it. I kiss you possessively, and my tongue claims your mouth.

Then I pull back your head back further and lick your neck. I delicately sniff the skin, and hear you breathe in sharply.

"Tomorrow," I growl, and scrape your skin lightly with my teeth.

Then I take the lube from the bedside table and coat my cock and your opening with it. "Flew across the ocean to marry a vampire..." I murmur. "A vampire who already has a taste for your blood... very dangerous territory, you might say..." I whisper, and press my cock against you. "But that's what you long for, it's what you *crave*... isn't it, my Tiger?"



Jim. Jim. JIM...

I can't think anything else; all the blood my brain needs to function has absconded elsewhere, my body is on fire, with flames pouring out wherever you touch me. Your presence has such an intoxicating effect; I just seem to melt into an insensible mass of lust an desire... that's normal, right? On a honeymoon?

Oh god, yes - ties - please, yes, take all agency away from me, let me just be your toy, your slave, your anything you want -

... I do hope you don't have a preference for men who play hard to get.

Here I am, spread out for you, ready for you, and you pull my head back, expose my neck - god - oh god this is it -

'Tomorrow', you say.

I can't tell if this feeling is relief or disappointment.

"Yes... yes I love danger, but you are so much more... fuck, Jim, you are the hottest man I've ever laid eyes on, you make me weak with desire the moment I see you, or just hear your voice - and - oh god I love you - I can't be without you - I just want to be yours - completely yours - and I want you to drink me; I trust you, I know you won't kill me - I just - I want to be everything for you, with you, like you are everything to me..."



I stare at you hungrily and push into you slightly. "You're already mine, my darling..."

I move inside you, feel you adjust. Push further as you moan.

"I can do with you as I like, as long as it doesn't harm you..."

My eyes glitter and I smile.

"Much..." I whisper, and push in the rest of the way.

My hands grasp your hip and your shoulder, and I begin to rock against you. "And I love *you*... which is why you're still in possession of your life and your blood... it *calls* to me, Sebastian. As much as I've enraptured you, you've done the same thing to me..." I sigh, as I move against you, and deeper into you. "I can't go past the point of no return, and I won't... not if it means losing you, my everything, my *Tiger*..." I murmur, and dive onto your lips to kiss you urgently.



Yes - yours - yoursyoursyours... Jim...

'Do with you as I like...'

Fuck, why does that phrase set me on fire!? It's the hottest thing I could ever think of, being your possession, your tool, your toy, your food, your slave...

I can't get close enough to you, I can't feel you enough, I want more, more words of love, more cock inside me, more you all around me, more of your pain, your passion, you you you... I'm an insatiable glutton, devoured by a hunger that hurts and can only momentarily be relieved by your touch, words, presence; a junkie who will do anything to get his next fix - kill, fuck, die -

And you say I'm your everything, and it makes my heart swell and fuck's sake, my eyes well up, and then you are on my mouth and deeper inside me, a slight ache, my arms tied, and it's almost enough, almost...



I'm pushing into you, you're pushing your hips back against me, and we're getting carried away so quickly...

*God*, I've never had anything like this before. Sex was such a perfunctory act - I needed to get my rocks off and satisfy my predatory urges, so I would do what needed to be done. But it was always something done to another body. Never done *with* someone, which is what this is... even strung up as you are. Because your desire, your longing for me, more of me, is all part of it... god, the hunger in your eyes...

and occasionally the tears being blinked back.

Oh my sweet Tiger...

I cover your face with kisses before I return to your lips. And then we're kissing hungrily again, and then comes the truly spectacular fucking... I've never had a body like this to enjoy, to pleasure mercilessly. You're massive compared to me, all brawn and muscle and *power*... and all you want is to be at my mercy as I take you. I feel almost dizzy with love and lust and *need* for you.

"Oh god... god, *Sebastian*," I rave, delirious now. The pace quickens and my hand tightens on your hip.

"You're so hot...Tiger... you're so fucking hot..." I chant, my eyes half-closed. My other hand seeks out your cock, and I begin to stroke firmly and possessively. "This is *mine*... and you can come when I do..."



You're as lost as I am, as entranced, as enraptured, and that's so good to see, that I'm not the only one who is losing himself, we are losing ourselves together, losing ourselves in each other, and finding each other, and so finding ourselves.

Your cock inside me feels like nothing has ever felt, other cocks were just - lifeless sticks pushed up there, pushing a button or not. Not a part of a body that is the most impressive person I've ever met, the love of my life, the Julio to my Romeo, or whatever - not something that I can long for more desperately than I've ever longed for anything.

You're touching me, panting my name, and the name you've given me, Tiger, and then you touch me - and the world stops, holds its breath, stretches into an unbearably long sustain of the universe's supreme chord - I moan, and then I hear your words, and it's all I can do to not come there and then, because there is nothing that turns me on more than knowing I belong to you, and that you decide when I get to come... but I don't, because I can't, because you haven't come yet, and please Jim...



Oh god, this *magnificent man*, my beautiful soldier, tied up and helpless for me...


My hand curls around your shoulder, drawing you closer as I move faster.

"Sebastian," I moan.

*mineFOREVER*, *4EVA*...

I shiver, and then my back arches. I throw my head back and cry out.

"Oh god -" I gasp as the shivers become spasms, and I lose all sense of control of my body there is only plunging into you, and grasping you, and *YouYouYou*...

"Tiger," I call out as I shatter.



Yes, yes yes yes Jim, my love, my dark lord, my all... come for me, come inside me...

I adore this, seeing your face screw up like this, seeing your pleasure, that you got from me, and then it’s my turn, I can’t hold back any longer, and fuck, you’re not draining me dry of blood but definitely of semen, it’s almost painful, but so delicious, so good, so... everything...

“Jim, god Jim, oh fuck...”



As my aftershocks are dying away, as you're shuddering against me, I lean my head against your chest. Just for a moment, to breathe "I love you" against your skin, before I reach up and release you from your restraints. Your arms fall to your sides before you lift them gingerly and shake them out - then you wrap me in them, and my head is back against your chest, and I'm whispering it to you again and again. "I love you, Sebastian... I love you..."

I don't know when the tears started, but I feel them wet on my cheeks as I press my face to yours, and stroke your hair.



This is...

I always thought that afterglow was the pleasant warm tired feeling you get after sex. I didn't know it involved your actual heart glowing red-hot and your entire being wanting to fold your partner in your arms. I'm glad you release me so I can do exactly that.

You seem equally affected - you keep whispering you love me and every whisper is a soft kiss on my soul, a healing balm where I didn't know I needed it.

And then I feel wetness on my chest, and see the pink trails on your pale cheeks as you lift up your face. I don't comment - you'll speak if you want to, and for now you just seem to want to hold me as close as possible, and stroke my hair, and that's exactly what I want to do, and for minutes we just sit there, chests touching, embracing. You shrink and slide out of me, and then adjust your position, so we are touching as much as is possible, my heart beating against your chest, my mouth breathing in your neck, your fingers moving through my hair, the occasional tear dropping onto my shoulder.



I sniffle occasionally as you hold me and I feel your chest rise and fall, rise and fall... I listen to your breath and your heartbeat.

"I'm still trying to sort all this out, Sebastian," I say hesitantly. "Sometimes I still feel like Richard..." I feel overwhelmed for a moment, and blink back more tears. Yes... that's Richard.

"At first I thought he would go away completely. And then later it felt like... I absorbed him, so he was a part of me. When I felt the Hunger, I was all predator. On the Hunt, and when we were fucking... I was dark, scary Jim. But when I was sated with blood and sex... Richard came back. Trust him to cry after sex..." I roll my eyes, but smile up at you and stroke your face.

"I don't really know how this is going to go. And I blame you for convincing me in the first place that Richard was a part of me... so now you have a confused, emotional vampire on your hands, and you'll be marrying him tomorrow and I don't know who he'll be!" I burst out. "Congratulations. I'm not a pure predator any more. Thanks to you, I'm also a smitten, weepy mess." I sniffle and press my face into your neck.

"So if it's dark, scary Jim you're in love with... I don't think - I'll be that all the time, Sebastian..." I sigh, and start to cry again.

"In the lift... when you wrote ‘Richard and Sebastian 4eva’... did you mean it??"



Oh god - oh my Jimmy... Richard... whoever... you...

"Yes," I say emphatically. "Richard Brook is the person I'm going to marry, isn't it? I love Richard, I love dark Jim, I love the predator - I love the confused, emotional vampire and the smitten, weepy mess." I kiss your tears.

"And - I've only been in love once, when I was very young, and he died, so I have no frame of reference, except - I've only been in love once before. It's not something that happens to me a lot. I'm 32, and I'm reasonably certain I'll remain in love with Jim and Richard for the rest of my life. Certain enough to make a vow to some bloke in a chapel - and to you."

I pull you close again. "Feel that heart? It's yours, my love. I promise. If I ever leave, you can cut it out and keep it."

Oh - humour too black again?


Chapter Text

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart
I want to recognize your beauty is not just a mask
I want to exorcise the demons from your past
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

You trick your lovers
That you're wicked and divine
You may be a sinner
But your innocence is mine



As I listen to you, my heart lifts... slowly, tentatively, hopefully. And then you kiss my tears.

Ohh... *Sebastian*...

When I hear you talk about your love who died, my heart squeezes painfully. Should I feel threatened? *Should I feel threatened*??

No... you were very young, you wouldn't still be together, I'm sure.

Besides - *we* are meant to be.

Which is ridiculous. I don't believe in that nonsense.

But - we *are*. End of story.

Held against your chest, I struggle to sort through my emotions. "I'll hold you to that... I'll have your heart in a *box*. Put that in your vows... I mean it. And what exactly were you thinking by saying *reasonably certain* when you're comforting me?" I say, my eyes flashing. "That's *not* what you wrote in the lift, you idiot Tiger. You did not declare 'Sebastian and Richard are *reasonably certain* they'll be together 4eva'... for *fuck's sake*... now make it better," I say in a sulky voice, laying my head on your shoulder, and curling my hands around your neck.



Oh you marvellous sulky creature...

You do the best sulks I've ever seen.

"I'm awfully sorry, my sweet. How dare I be British and use an understatement to emphasize my words. Nay, to be a Romantic lover! Mio unico vero amore! Or a brazen American! Oh, honey, I'll lahve you forever..." I say in my worst Southern drawl.



I wait smugly for your profuse apology, but my mouth drops open as I instead hear sarcastic declarations.

"Tiger!" I exclaim, all imperiousness and vexation. “Have you gone mad, darling? You're supposed to be making it *better*, not worse!" I hit your shoulder - not with full vampire strength, but with the might of an indignant Richard. You respond with the most ridiculous histrionics like you've been hit with an arrow.

"You - *brute*..." I protest, trying not to laugh as you try to tickle me in retaliation. "*Stop it*..."

I fail spectacularly, as I fall against you giggling maniacally.

"*Sebastian*... you are such a *child*..." I say loftily, and smack you in the face with a pillow.



I’m doing important scientific research. Like whether vampires are still ticklish. This one certainly is...

But it’s important to be thorough. What about your neck? Your armpits?

A pillow lands squarely in my face.

“Oh no, the enemy has deployed secret weapons! Retaliate!!”

I grab the other pillow and try to slap you with it, but you keep defending with your arm - so I dive underneath and recommence tickling while you’re giggling and trying to slap me with the pillow - but then you drop it, grab my wrists, and pin me to the bed.

It keeps being hot; so much strength in that tiny body...



Oh no, my darling... you will not reduce me to a shrieking, giggling helpless creature... not for long, anyway.

It doesn't take long to have the upper hand. Ohhh, that look in your eye. You really do love this...

I smile at you slyly. "Surrender."



"Never," I grin.



"Tiiiger..." I sing, pushing your wrists down harder, and nibbling your neck. "You know you're not going to win..."



"Who says I want to win?" I smile. At least you've got over your maudlin moment.



I huff. "Well, you'll get what you want, then..." I lick your neck languorously, smiling at your shiver. "Being made to submit... over... and over..."

I nuzzle under your jaw, enjoying your squirm, your shaky inhale. "Finding yourself underneath me..." I whisper, and then release your wrists.

"But you need recovery time, darling..." I say in a purring voice. "We'll have plenty of time for *that* on our wedding day... and every day after..."

I lay my head contentedly on your chest. "Are you sleepy? Hungry? Shall I have room service bring up a third dinner?"



You licking my neck...

It makes me shiver in anticipation of what is to come - I must be mental, but I can’t wait to have you pierce my flesh and drink from me, experiencing it consciously, feeding you...

Yeah. A mouse jumping into the cat’s mouth. Crazy. But the cat is so hot and sweet...

Am I sleepy or hungry? Not really.

“I slept on the plane and had four meals - I’m alright. Probably best if we stay up a bit longer, then sleep during the day. As long as we get up in time to get our marriage license...” I grin.

“Well; since it’s both our stag night, and we’re in Vegas, let’s party a bit? I don’t know about you, but I love a drink and hate people, so how about we finish off that champagne and get another one? And I may even be tempted to get a hot soldier to come and do a striptease...”



A slow smile spreads across my face. “You want... a stag night?” I giggle. “Well, that’s something I never pictured myself doing in a million and a half years... oh *let’s*, my beautiful fiancé... and let’s see how much I need to get you drunk to convince you a striptease is so important...” I kiss your neck. “So very important...”

I roll off you and grab the hotel phone from the bedside table. “I’ll just order more champagne, shall I? Anything else? Beer? Whisky?”



"I prefer beer and whisky myself. Though do get some champagne... I might find a use for it..." I smile, picturing the things one can do with champagne...

Right, honestly, Moran, get your mind out of that gutter. You're not seventeen any more - you do need some time without or you'll collapse and then what will poor Richard marry?

"Some snacks for when I get hungry? Peanuts - strawberries - water, to stay hydrated, don't want to be too hungover on our special night... do you get hungover if you drink too much?"



“I do,” I say ruefully. “Just like in life. Though I can’t understand why. More for the vampire research facility to study, should I ever find a vampire scientist... or make a vampire scientist...” I roll my eyes, and place the order for room service. “On its way! Now where is that champagne we already started...” I roll off the bed, and swipe the bottle from the table. I take a long sip and look at you with half-closed eyes.

“Sebastian and Richard’s stag party begins...” I smile coyly, lick my lips and pass you the bottle.



"To Richard and Sebastian - 4eva!" I raise the bottle, take a big swig. Fizzy sparkles in my mouth. Beautiful man in my bed. Our bed. Hot sex and a wedding in my immediate future.

I've had worse weeks.

"So - let's do a getting to know you drinking game? We take turns making statements about each other, things we don't know. If we're right, the other person drinks. If we're wrong, we drink. What do you think?"



I feel worry trickle through me, but it’s a *game*, I don’t think you would ask any... unsettling questions on a stag night... it’s supposed to be fun, right?

Swallowing hard, I push my worries aside and drop onto the bed. “OK, Sebastian. I’ll go first. You went to university... Oxford man.”

I smile smugly as your eyes widen, and pass you the bottle.



I notice the slight flash of worry cross your face. Oh. Things you're not ready to talk about?

A small flare of jealousy stabs through me - what can't your husband know about you? - but then I chide myself - we've only just met! Give the guy a chance to keep some things for later.

Then you peg me for an Oxford man, and - wow.

"How on earth?!" I ask.



I blink. How? Is this part of the game?

I shrug. "Your git of a father went to Oxford, as I recall... I just assumed you would have gone, too. And the way you speak... when you're not being a ruffian," I grin. "Drink."



I drink. If you put it like that, it seems quite logical.

"I did go to Oxford, but didn't finish. I walked past this military recruitment office every day, and one day I just walked in. Never looked back.

Oh, and..." I pour some more champagne in my glass. "I forgot to say, but you don't have to say if something is true or not, you can say you forfeit, and drink without saying if the statement was true or false."

You nod, looking just a tiny bit relieved.

I look at you. Hmmm... this might not be the best way to get to know you; I find myself wanting to ask open questions. Well - I started it now. Maybe later.

"You didn't finish secondary school."



If I were alive, my heart would have slammed in my chest.

"And why - would you think - *that*?" I ask, my tone growing icy. I snatch the bottle from you, tip it back into my mouth, and put it down on the nightstand emphatically. "Please. Share, Sebastian..."



What did I do now!?

I look in shock and - fear? - as you freeze over, snatch the bottle, slam it down. Fear not for my safety - fuck that - but that I might have offended you - that you're going to walk away - and then what do I do? Stuck in Vegas, knowing that there's no point to my life -


No, we weren't going to do that... but neither were we going to hurt each other with unpleasant statements -

"I didn't say that to offend you - quite the contrary -" Yeah Seb, why did you say that!?

"It just seemed - you're such a genius. You had a criminal Empire built up by the time you were 25 - and you have - quite a short fuse -"

Careful, Seb...

"- you're just not the type of person who patiently sits in the school benches and listens to the nonsense being spouted at the level of the slowest person in the class until they're sixteen. You'd have been bored to tears and decided your time could be better used elsewhere way before that."



I've made you nervous - good. Use your head, foolish Tiger. How is not finishing secondary school going to be a source of pride for someone? Or indicate favourable circumstances in their life?

I listen to you intently as you explain your reasoning, sounding more and more cautious.

"Good answer, Sebastian," I allow. "And yes, I was *bored*. Only - it wasn't up to me to leave... That was decided for me when I was put into a mental institution at 12. I won't go into details now, this isn't the time for it. A year later, I escaped. Maybe we should stay away from questions to do with childhood?" I say lightly, before going to you, sitting in your lap, and putting my arms around you.

"I do have a short fuse..." I whisper in your ear. "I have my reasons... but it's not an excuse. I'm - sorry, Sebbie... my temper isn't about you. But it keeps being directed at you, and... I really am trying, my Tiger..." My hand trails along your cheek, and I lay my head on your shoulder.



You're apologizing - saying you shouldn't take stuff out on me - saying you're trying –

I hear it somewhere in the back of my mind -

You were in a mental institution by the age of twelve. You escaped - weren't let go - after a year.

What happened!? What made them keep you for over a year? Where was your family?

I know I should not ask these questions - shouldn't even think them - but how can I not -

Oh my Jim -

Your head is on my shoulder, and I pull you closer, so you don't see my face -

Well done Sebastian, great stag night game - such fun –



You're not saying anything... are you upset?

I look up at you, and your face is filled with look *haunted*...

"Sebastian, it's in the past," I say gently. "A *lifetime* ago. I died, and came back to life as something else entirely. But I didn't realize... it still affects me. That's news." I brood for a moment, then look up at you. "Sebastian, we were meant to be having fun! Let's just forget it, my darling... I want to drink and have fun with you. We're in Vegas - I think it's the *law*..."



"Wouldn't want to break the law..." I grin.

"This might not be the best game. I would like to know more about you before we get married, and I would like you to find out more about me, but maybe we can have a less... confrontational way of going about it, and avoid the traumas...

Wait - there's that thing - the 36 questions to fall in love - not that we need questions to fall in love, I think we've crossed that bridge a long time ago, but they're good getting-to-know-you questions. We can avoid ones that we are uncomfortable answering - they weren't quite written with vampires with traumatic childhoods in mind, I guess - but the rest might be fun?"

I google the list on my phone, show it to you.



Can’t we just learn about each other naturally... slowly, over a lifetime? A *questions game* for falling in love? Was it from a magazine with tips for soft, silky hair? This is not what I meant by fun. I stop myself from groaning as you speak. *Be*. *Nice*. *Jim*. I think to myself, which sounds so outlandish to my own ears, I almost burst out laughing.

Instead I dutifully look at the questions on your phone.

“Whatever you like, Sebbie,” I sing, and drain the rest of the champagne from the bottle. I put it down, and run a hand through my hair. Wait - could it be more soft and silky?? I’m about to take your phone to look up tips, when there’s a knock on the door. “Drinks!” I exclaim in delight.



Oh, ok. No getting to know you games. Fine, my love - though I wonder why? You're quite the prima donna, so why don't you like talking about yourself?

Anyway, this is a party. If you find talking about yourself not suitable for your party, we will talk about anything else... or not talk at all, for significant chunks of time.

Drinks are carried in by a smiling waiter, who asks how we're enjoying our evening - I don't like the American habit of smiling and asking how you are and trying to appear genuinely happy and interested - give me Basil Fawlty any day - but the people in this hotel seem genuinely cheerful, which is nice on one's honeymoon, I guess. They were probably selected on their ability to act happy, but hopefully are compensated accordingly. He offers to open the champagne bottle but I tell him no, so he just puts it in an ice bucket. I give him a generous tip and he wishes us a very pleasant night.

You've also ordered a good whisky and six beers, five of which I put into the mini fridge, pouring a nice shot of whisky to go with the sixth one.

"Cheers, my beautiful fiancé," I smile.



I ignore the waiter. Humans are for service and for nourishment. Instead I watch you, as you take over the transaction. Answer, tip, get out. Well done, Tiger.

I take the champagne bottle, and clink your glass.

"Cheers, my lovely Tiger..." I purr. I pop the champagne, and we're both hit with the spray.

"Oh! What a mess," I grin and lick the foaming liquid from your face. Then I pour some into a flute for myself. "All right... you wanted to play, let's play. First question." I call up what I saw of the quiz in my mind's eye. "Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest? You first, darling..."



“Jim - are you sure you want to play this game? You seemed not too keen. I’m happy not to - I’d like to learn more about you, but we’ve got all our lives...”



I pull you towards me and kiss you hungrily, easing apart your lips with my tongue. By the time I pull back, you practically fall forward. Your eyes are glazed over.

I smile at you, pleased.

"I want to play one of your games. Even the other game was fine, we just needed to establish ground rules... is there anything you don't want to talk about?"




... no. I’ve kind of told you already - and I nearly lost you because I had this twisted ideas about him and never spoke about them.

If Demmings hadn’t turned up... and I hadn’t talked with him... would I be here?

No, fuck the strong silent type. I’ve been one for years and it kept me alive, but hardly happy. And there is nothing I want to keep secret from you. Or that I would feel uncomfortable telling you. You look straight through me anyway. And I’m yours...

“No. Nothing I can think of. You? Anything to do with childhood?”



You have a flash of sadness in your eyes. Oh - your dead love. *Pain*

I don't want to know about that! But I also do!! I *have* to know.

"Childhood. Adolescence." *pain*

"Family." *PAIN*

My brow furrows. "Doesn't leave much, does it. Well, you've got the adult years, and the vampire year. I'm not exactly an open book, but I'll show you some chapters. The rest... another time."

I touch your face.


God, what's come over me? I'm the most opaque, secretive, enigmatic creature, even for a vampire... and I'm promising to let you in on my deepest secrets? To pry open the cellar door and let you in?

God... this *must* be love.



I see the pain on your face - god, I’ll have to walk on eggshells here - no questions before eighteen. Got it.

No family...

though I’m dying to know what happened, if I can do anything to make you feel better, to hold you and kiss you until you are happy...

I can see that this is not the stuff of happy stag dos.

“Jim... my love. I love you unconditionally. I know people say that; but I mean it. I’ll love you even if you never tell me anything else about yourself. I’ll love you if you tell me horrible things. I’ll love you whether you’re human, vampire, or - were-cat or something.”

I kiss your hand. “I don’t ever want you to feel uncomfortable with me. And if I say or ask something to make you uncomfortable - sorry, I’m not the most socially skilled man,” I grin.

“Now! Game! Let’s see how long we last... who would I want as a dinner guest?” I ponder.

“You. Is that cheating? I mean - I can’t think of anyone I’d rather spend time with. I’m not fussed about celebrities or politicians - maybe if I could get an assassination in. But - nah, fuck the rest of the world. If I could have dinner with anyone, it’d be you.

And you?”



I'm smiling at you as you say the most wonderful words, and kiss my hand softly... god, how am I so lucky to have landed such a sweet, beautiful man... who loves my darkness and even craves it? I have to be so wonderful to you, my darling...

You'd choose me?

"Darling..." I wind my arms around your neck, beaming up at you. "You are *so sweet*.

I was going to say Caligula... which sounds not nearly as sweet. But it would be a hard thing to pass up... surreal though it would be. They never explain in these scenarios how the dinner would come to be. Is the person's spirit plucked from the afterlife and told 'you're having dinner with this human now, you've got no choice'? Or is it more like an interactive hologram of that person, based on their personality? Either way - dinner with Caligula."

I grab the champagne bottle and pull you towards the sofa.

"Oh, that was fun, Sebbie! Next question... Would you like to be famous? In what way?"



"I wasn't aware it could involve historical people," I muse.

Nearly said dead people. Bad move. "But I stick with my answer."

"Famous? I would love to be the chronicler to document the dinner conversations between Caligula and Moriarty," I chuckle. "I assume you're fluent in Latin?" I say it as a joke, but you nod matter-of-factly. How many hidden talents do you have, Jim? I look forward to finding out...

"But no, I don't want to be famous. I've spent my entire life trying to not be famous, really - my dad wanted a future for me in the spotlights of politics and the golden glow of crystal chandeliers, so I went and made a career out of not being seen lying in the mud and hiding in the rubble. I had the record of most successful snipes - but very few people are aware, because that's a dangerous thing to be known about one. I don't want people to look at me, to talk to me, to read about me. I'm much happier sitting in the dark.

What about you? You strike me as someone who could hold an audience spellbound..."



Hmm... this *is* a good game. All this delicious information to store in my Sebastian file... I swing my legs onto the couch and sit cross-legged, playing with your hand on your thigh.

"Oh, fame... well, the lure is there, of course. Or, *was*...

When I was young, I wanted to be a dancer, and then an actor - so certainly, the desire to perform was always there. But I realized... there were other things I wanted out of life, namely power and never having to answer to *anybody*.

So I found ways to use performing to my advantage. I played various roles in my schemes... and there was an air of provocative melodrama to my persona that helped me create the Moriarty mystique. So I had fame in the underworld. But when people are afraid to speak your name, that goes well beyond fame. *Anyone* can have fame... who has that level of notoriety? Me and Voldemort..." I curl my fingers around yours. "Only I'm far more attractive, and less likely to be defeated by schoolchildren.

Next question!"



You seem to be warming to the game. I'm glad - I'd have tried to distract you into something else if I had the impression you were only doing it for me, but you seem genuinely soaking up the things I tell you about myself. And I love hearing about you...

You'd told me you had wanted to be a dancer, and you would have been a brilliant actor. I've never seen anyone change so entirely as you between Richard, and casual Jim, dominant Jim, dangerous creature of the night, whoever you were when you were seducing that woman... so many entirely different - characters? roles? sides of you?

I feel that the ones you display when you're with me are definitely sides of you - and you've said as much. I wouldn't be happy about marrying Richard if he were just a role you played...

I can imagine you playing around in the underworld, eloquently confusing your opponents, making them terrified of you, because they would never know who they were dealing with... I wish I could have seen you back then. You must have been magnificent...

"Next question - before you make a phone call, do you ever rehearse what you're going to say and why?"



You appear happy that I’m participating... well, now that we’ve established ground rules, and I just get to learn about you, and talk about myself... and watch you admire me as I speak... what’s not fun about this?

“Do I rehearse? I don’t know if you know much about acting... my focus was Stanislavski’s system, although I've added a few other fun tricks I’ve picked up along the way... I use techniques to get into character, but I wouldn't call it rehearsing... it’s more like it comes through me. Sometimes I'll choose a fun phrase to incorporate. And this isn’t just for playing a role, but when I’m being full *Moriarty*, too... it’s certainly easier than maintaining that level of full-out madness. You burn out hard and fast, I can tell you from experience... and that’s pretty much the route I was heading down, until the vampire path took over, and... well, my head’s been in another place since then...” I drink deep from the champagne bottle. I’m touching on sensitive topics, but as long as I don’t dwell, I should be fine... and there’s something about sharing the burden with someone. The burden of being Moriarty... I never thought of it that way. But I’ve been carrying it for a long time...

I squeeze your hand and feel comforted by your warmth and your loving eyes.

“Your turn, Tiger... I can’t see you rehearsing before a phone call...”



“What do you mean full Moriarty and madness?” You don’t strike me as mad.



"Ah, you didn't know me then... Moriarty was a dark figure hidden in the shadows that no one could reach... a spider on a web, in control of all the threads... and I learned to channel my propensity for madness to make myself into the most terrifying criminal mastermind imaginable... something otherworldly, really. It was a thing of beauty..." I say wistfully, then laugh. "The irony is now I *am* otherworldly, but it feels like I lost some of that... " I gesture vaguely, "psychopathic fervour, I guess you could say. I thought that's what was missing since I became a vampire, I thought that's why I was so desperately unhappy. But since I met you..." I stop and gaze at you longingly.

"Now that I have you..." I murmur. "I know what was missing. My heart... and you're the one who helped me find it..."



Aw - I - oh Jim...

I pull you close. You’re so remarkably pleasant to hold - you fit my arms perfectly.

“Thank you. Thank you for - saying that, and for - finding me. I didn’t realize I was lost until you did...”

Bloody hell. This game is good. Only three questions and I think I’m more in love than I ever thought I could be.



I move in against you even closer, resting my head on your shoulder. Mmm.. so big. I've always liked *big*, but so often it goes hand in hand with *stupid*. Or macho arrogance. I *especially* enjoy killing those types...

You on the other hand are intelligent and *sweet*... and even though your training clearly makes you lethal, you don't need to shove it in people's faces. It's there, in your predatory stance, and your movement... it's shining in your eyes for all to see. Don't. Fuck. With. Tiger.

Beautiful killer... beautiful psychopath... is it any wonder I picked you out in a crowd? Is it any wonder I had to make you *mine*?


"Tiger..." I murmur. "We were both lost. The odds were against two killers saving each other, but... since I don't believe in Fate, I'll just have to chalk it up to always getting what I want, in the end. And I got something I didn't even know I wanted... that's how well it works.." I nuzzle your neck.

"You didn't answer the question yet, darling... keep up, or we won't have any more drinks."



“No more drinks?! On my stag night?! Nooo!” I grin, then ponder the question. “Do I rehearse before a call? Why would I? I don’t see the point - you can’t predict what the other is going to say, so any rehearsal would have to be for what you say first thing, or in a scenario that you are pretty sure is going to occur - no, I think that’s best left to star actors like you. I’ll just stay in the shadows and give monosyllabic answers, as is appropriate.

Silly question. Next one: what would constitute a perfect night for you? It says day, but that would be limiting the options.”



"Mmm... beautiful, terse killer in the shadows..." I purr, and kiss along your neck.

Damn, that's sexy... the perfect criminal counterpoint to my more dramatic ways...

I tap my fingers to my lips. "The perfect night is... Blood. Sex. Tiger. Which means I'll have the perfect night *every* night... any other details are just a variation..."

I raise my head from your shoulder, and smile at you. "Am I supposed to drink now? I've lost track..." I raise the champagne bottle to my lips, watching you as I sip. "Your turn, darling..."



"I think the rules of the game are that we drink whenever we want to, which sounds like my kind of game," I say.

"My perfect night... now, let me see...

We're on a tropical island, with our own private villa and beach. It's warm, but the villa is built to keep cool and is in the shade of trees, so we sleep during the day in crisp cotton sheets, protected from the sun by trees and thick walls and curtains, with the sea breeze wafting through the house... then we get up, and when the sun is down, we go to the beach - there's no light pollution, so there are millions of stars, and you point out constellations to me... or there is a huge full moon reflected in the water, with cicadas singing...

And we lie on our towels, and swim under the moon, and fuck on the beach, and eat ice cream under the stars; and when you get hungry you slip to the other side of the island where there's another private villa that we rent out to annoying couples - brash Americans, or arrogant Brits, or crass Russians - and you eat your fill and we swim and laze some more and then just before we go to bed you take me in your arms and bite me and drink just enough to let you savour my taste, and we make love, and then when we're both shattered we have a shower and head back inside..."



I listen, enraptured.

"God, Tiger... your details are *delectable*... constellations, and ice cream, and fucking and my very own supply of stupid tourists, and..."

My arms circle your neck. "Biting you...*drinking* you... making love with you..." I breathe in your scent. "I should leave dates up to you... You're clearly a romantic genius..."

I kiss your lips and look up at you dreamily. "Let's go on one long romantic adventure that lasts a lifetime... would you like that, Tiger?"

*Your* lifetime, I think sadly but keep that to myself.

I'm going to treasure every minute that I have with you, every *second*...

I pull you towards me and kiss you longingly.



Lasts a lifetime...

And then I'll be old, and dead, and you will still look like this...

Will you be lonely, without me? Or will my death come as a relief, no longer being responsible for this greying decaying man, whose war wounds ache and whose mind wanes? Or will you have gone long before, your marriage vows forgotten, as so many are?

Stop it. Those thoughts are not welcome on the night before our wedding. We're young(ish) and in love and happy and thoughts of death and mortality are for another time - not tonight. Not when I have the sexiest man alive - (damn it!) - the sexiest man in the world around me, his mouth on mine...

We break the kiss, looking into each other's eyes longingly. I take a sip from my whisky, kiss you again, let some seep into your mouth. You swallow, lick my lips.

I lift up my phone.

"When did you last sing to yourself, or to another?"



You look sad, and try to stifle it. You're not like me, my sweet...

I can hide my emotions a lot better when I have to.

When we stop kissing briefly, we stare into each other's eyes... and it's so poignant and achingly beautiful, I want to cry. But a stag night is not for tears. You let whisky pour into my mouth from your lips, which is unbelievably hot, and then we're onto the next question.

Bloody waterworks averted...

"When did I last sing?" I muse. "I used to sing all the time... pre-vamp. By myself. Snippets of songs to my victims... I sang some opera to a mafioso before I shot him in the throat... and I wasn't half-bad! Other than that... I haven't properly sung to someone since I used to sing Georgie to sleep..."

My eyes fly up. I didn't mean to divulge that. Well. This game is strangely powerful... or maybe it's the drinking.

Fuck it. It's you. Your bright blue eyes staring at me, drinking me in, wanting to *know* about me...

"Georgie was... my baby brother. He died when I was a teenager. It's a very sad story... and I will tell you, Sebastian. I just don't want to go there tonight... I hope you understand..."



I muse that I'd love to hear you sing; wonder if I'd be able to ask you to sing something for me, when -

oh -

- your eyes wide, panic, fear - pain - such pain -

- Jim-

my heart racing, ribcage shrinking, compressing my heart until it's ready to burst -


And you're looking in control of yourself again.

Such immense pain, so quickly pushed away - I am still reeling and you look calm.

Well - now I know why I shouldn't ask about childhood stuff... part of me wants to know, wants to know everything about you, anything that happened, and part of me is terrified - it will break my heart, I know it... but you suffered, are suffering still, and I don't want you to suffer alone...

But again - not now.

I pull you close, pull your face into my neck, my nose in your hair.

"Of course. I'm so sorry, my love..."



"It's in the past, Sebastian..." I say quietly, but close my eyes as I feel your strong body comforting me. I lean against you, my face pressed into your neck.

"God, I keep doing this... Bringing us down... I must not be very good at stag nights," I say wryly. "Good thing I'll only be doing it the once!"

I kiss your neck. "I'm fine, darling. Pray, continue... When did you last sing to yourself, or to another?"



“I don’t really sing to myself or others... I don’t have a great voice I’m afraid; but I do like singing along when I’m driving. I love long drives on my own when I can just plug in my phone and murder my favourite songs,” I grin, doing my best to seem careless and happy - I am happy. We’ll talk about your childhood some other time.



"Mmm, driving and singing terribly... that sounds fun." I grin at you. "We should take a road trip somewhere... well, I already suggested going out to Red Rock Canyon. We can see the desert... howl at the moon... fuck under the stars... and we can drink and sing and be obnoxious. Sounds like a fun honeymoon activity to me..." I beam at you.



“Howl, fuck, drink, sing, be obnoxious. You picked the perfect husband for all that, my sweet vampire,” I nuzzle.

I glance at the next two questions - one about not ageing and one about how you die - not appropriate. I go for number eight: “Name three things your partner and you seem to have in common.”



Mmm... our desert trip is sounding more and more fun.

*Fun*... there's a thought. I've never thought of things in those terms before... after a few days of meeting you, I'm in Vegas about to get married and take a madcap night drive into the desert... to drink and screw and carry on like idiots.

*God*... your effect on me has been surprising... and *welcome*, I realize.

I sigh with pleasure and lean against your shoulder again. "Hmm. We're both killers, and relish the Hunt. Neither of us are beholden to the laws of society. Annnd... we're creatures unlike any others in the boudoir. Would you agree, Tiger?" My hand trails over your chest.



“I can most certainly agree with that,” I say, finishing my beer. I reluctantly leave your embrace and head for the fridge for another, open it, hop back into your arms, look at my phone.

“Hmmm... I think I know the answer to this one. For what in your life do you feel most grateful?”



I love how wrapped up in each other we are... especially since we left for Vegas. We’re almost always touching, or staring at each other soulfully.

“A week ago, this answer would have been *very* different. I’m still grateful for my mind... but it wasn’t enough to make life *or* unlife worth living, in the end... that’s *you*, Tiger... big, beautiful paws down...” I bury my face in your neck, and sigh dreamily.



God, we are two smitten teenagers... Romeo and Juliet indeed... no sense or moderation at all, and it’s exquisite... I never want to be a sensible boring adult again.

“I think you know my answer too...”

I stroke your hair, so luscious and beautiful, your neck, rest my hand on your arm.

I’m not touching questions ten or eleven - upbringing and life story - nah. Some other time.

“If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be?”



Now *there's* an interesting question...

I breathe you in as I think and play with your golden hair curling over your neck.

"One quality or ability..." I muse.

What would my desired goal be? More power and riches? Revenge? Taking over the vampire cabals, or taking them down entirely?

"I want..." I falter, " be good at loving you..."

I sound so fucking vulnerable, it's difficult not to cringe.

What happened to the cruel, sadistic mastermind? The undead predator?

The monster I was... the monster I am... I'm terrified of what either could do to you, if they get their claws into you... their *teeth*.

You stare at me, nameless wonder in your bright blue eyes.

Oh god, Sebastian... how do I protect you from myself?




... of all the things...

... oh god JIM...

I stare at you, and you look back, so vulnerable, so loving, so insecure, - scared? What’s wrong, my bunny?

I scoop you up, pull you onto my lap, hug you close.

“No one has ever been better at loving me than you have been. My darling, my sweet, my angel... what is wrong? Why do you think you can’t?”



I will not cry... I will *not cry*...

"I'm... not a good person, Tiger. I love you *and* I'm terrified of hurting you. Because my instincts have *never* been loving ones... not since... Georgie."

I look up at you, shock moving through me. "Oh..." I chew my lip. "I loved Georgie... Mam, too... but my brother - I would have done *anything* for him... Maybe I'm not a complete monster... maybe there's something still warm in me, even as a vampire..."

*It wasn't enough*, I don't say. I became a complete monster because I wasn't enough to protect my loved ones...

My jaw twitches.

I *can't make that mistake again*... I *won't*.

"I'm still figuring all this out, Tiger... but nothing matters more to me than you. Not a blessed thing. So every moment I'm still on this earth is for you and you alone... I will love you and protect you. My Tiger, my husband-to-be, my heart..." I smile at you faintly.

There are tears in my eyes, but not sad, so I think it's OK...

I throw my arms around you and kiss your face over and over.



My eyes fill with tears as I hear you - your doubt, your fear, your love...


"I don't believe there are people who are good or evil. It's all shades of grey - we're all selfish in the end.

You say you're afraid of hurting me because your instincts have never been loving ones, but then you do love me... why do you think you might hurt me?"



I bury my face in your chest and snort softly. “I think most people would say pretty definitively that I’m evil,” I say wryly. “But then... most people aren’t sexy assassins. And I’ve never once cared what people thought, anyway. Boring. Sanctimonious. Morons.”

I’m quiet for a moment as I play with your hand. “I guess... it’s easy, one week in. When we’re so in love, and about to get married, and go on honeymoon... what happens after? A year from now? Five? Will I still be loving? Will my lesser nature take over? I don’t even mean my vampire nature, I already gave you my word and that’s something I don’t break. Ever. I mean... the cruel, sadistic side of me... the *psychopath* that James Moriarty was, before I vamped out, before I fell in love with Sebastian Moran, and he became my Tiger, and... I made him take me to Vegas to tie the knot.” I kiss your neck. “You can’t get out of that, you know...” I whisper. “The knot will hold...”



"I should hope so..." I whisper, then lean back, frown.

"Jim - fuck, I sound like a cliché best man speech, but marriage is always a risk. Fuck, any relationship is a risk. Life is a risk. What if we get hit by a bus on the way to the chapel? What if one of us falls out of love? What if you become a cruel sadistic psychopath called James Moriarty? What if I get erectile dysfunction? If we let ourselves be ruled by what ifs, we can only huddle in a basement in fear, and I for one don't want to live like that.

I may be a bit of an adrenaline junkie, but I'm not stupid, and I'm not a pushover. I enjoy you being cruel and sadistic, in case you hadn't noticed yet - but if you're being cruel and sadistic in a way that I don't enjoy, I'll tell you. If you stop loving me, you'll tell me. And we'll deal with it like people have dealt with heartache and relationships since the dawn of time - by talking, and crying, and trying. Because that's all we can do.

Neither of us knows the future, Jim, and I don't think I'd choose that as my superpower either. I prefer to just - look at the future, with all the uncertainties it brings, and say - well, I don't know what the fuck's going to happen, but I'll take the risk, and I'll take it with you. That's what love and trust means. And you may be a vampire, and I may be an assassin, and we may both be a bit less sane than the average Joe, but in the end, what we face is no more or less daunting than what every couple faces, and there's no need to make a big melodrama out of it, Edward Cullen."



I'm listening to you, protesting silently, waiting for my moment to interject when you launch the Twilight missile...

My mouth drops open upon impact.

Then snaps shut. "My dear... sweet... Bella..." I say, holding your chin. "I am a *vampire*... a creature of darkness and depravity... you couldn't escape the *melodrama* if you left by horse, or car, or plane, or bloody space shuttle... now if you can stop yapping about all these ridiculous scenarios for one moment, I'll *remind* you... the world bends to my will. *Not* the other way around. None of these things shall come to pass., you foolish... ridiculous... Tiger... now *you* answer the fecking question, my love. Make it good, and I'll forget what you called me," I kiss you heatedly, and turn my head to drink deep from the champagne bottle. I arch an eyebrow as I wait.



Ooooh, that's one indignant vampire. Mouth dropping open and everything - so cute... I can't help but grin as you grab my chin and lecture me on the necessity of drama for vampires. I'm about to give another snarky comment when you hit my weak spot - your power...

God, yes, the world bends to your will... if it knows what's good for it... and so does this ridiculous Tiger...

Ah. Answer the question. Eh. Make it good. Oh.

Well, how do I beat your answer? That was so sweet, so - genuine, so adorable -

What would I like? To make you happy, to love you forever, to beat your enemies, to protect you from all you fear... to give you back your brother...

I take a deep drink from my beer, buying time. Fuck. Come on Seb, think.

"I'd like the ability to make you laugh."



"Oh, but you already have that, darling! I've never been the laughing sort... well, not for a very long time. You've already made me a helplessly giggling vampire more times than I can count. Most unbecoming for a creature of darkness... and don't forget the depravity. And did I mention deviance?" God, now you have me riffing on the Spanish Inquisition... I shake my head as I look at you.

"Besides, if I'm ever feeling down, I just have to remember the funniest creature of all... the assassin who called me Edward Cullen and lived." I pour the rest of my champagne over your head and when you yell in surprise, I pounce on you, giggling.

"See, Tiger?" I shriek with laughter as you flip me over. "It's working already..."



Hurrah, my superpower works. I have a giggling tipsy vampire in my arms, and I’ve never seen a more lovely sight.

I rub my wet face on your face, making you squeal and giggle more, and then you push me over and we both land on the floor and have an interesting tussle because you are both lighter and stronger than me, but neither of us are at full strength because we’re half incapacitated with the giggles - dear goodness, some creatures of darkness we are...

... and then you are kissing me and I do not want to giggle or throw you off - I just want to feel that sweet tongue against mine, your body on me, so small, so powerful, your hands stroking the champagne through my hair...

“Jim...” I sigh.



"Sebastian..." I whisper back, holding your face in my hands.

I make no move to get up off the floor or you. I just stay where I am... straddling your strong body, staring into your eyes, and kissing you again... again... again...

"I can't wait until we're married," I murmur, in between kisses. "I think your silly quiz is working... ask me another question, darling..."



"Ehm..." I grasp for my phone.

"If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future, or anything else, what would you want to know?"

Huh... I have no idea...



I roll my eyes. "Most truths can be determined using my mind... even future events. Although..." my brow furrows. It didn't stop me from being turned into a vampire - I didn't see foresee *that* potential future unfolding. So not *100%* infallible, clearly... but then, how dull that would be! Nothing's any fun if the risk of dying isn't there!

But *you*, on the other hand...

"The only truth I'd want to know is any potential factor that could harm you... so I could neutralize it. You wouldn't be able to find a trace of that threat with a *microscope* by the time I was done with it... And you, Tiger?"



Aw, that's sweet... my protective bloodsucker...

Though if the crystal ball dealt in probabilities of potential harm to me, I'm pretty sure that you would come out on top, my love... as you yourself so sadly proclaimed earlier. I can defend myself against most other predators... and I don't think anyone is particularly keen on killing me - no one who knows who I am, anyway. But you - you just have to lose that volatile temper a bit too much... or get a bit too hungry, forget yourself when you're feeding... and it's bye bye Bassy.

I realize I'm thinking this without fear or aversion - if you kill me, then so be it. I'm not one to walk away from something because of danger - especially not this. You. Fuck, no - even if the crystal ball would tell me you will definitely kill me within five years, I'd say fuck it - worth it.

"The truth about anything... pfooh..." I ponder. I really have no idea... wait.

"There is one thing." I swallow. Well, I said I had nothing to hide - and I don't -

"We were in Herat for a while. These kids liked to hang round the camp, run errands, sell little things, practice English. I knew some Dari, which they found hilarious. There was this one kid, called Najib, who was very bright. He didn't know any English when we met, he was only about seven, but he picked it up really quickly. He became my little buddy - he'd correct my Dari; like I said, he was really bright. I don't much care for kids, but I liked this one. I'd get him the occasional treat, and he always made sure to share it with his siblings - he was really sweet.

Anyway, at some point we did a raid on a house; it was said a prominent Taliban leader was hiding there. It was a maze, there were a lot of men, armed to the teeth, darkness, close quarters. We did manage to get the guy. As we went out, we were shot at from a building on the other side of the street, so we returned fire, managed to get to the vehicle and leave.

The next day, this man showed up with the bodies of two young boys. He said he was their father, and that we had shot them. Our commander said they always say that to make us look bad in the eyes of the public, and he probably wasn't even their father. But the guy - the look in his eyes - he was genuinely so very upset - he was desperate -

- and one of the kids - it was Najib. He looked so small, so pale, with the red blood staining him...

There's no saying that we killed the kids. There was a lot of shooting, they could have been hit at any time, by anyone.

And - I don't even care for kids. People die in a war, it's inevitable, some younger than others. But Najib - he was a special kid. So very bright, and - yeah. I don't know. I just felt - bad.

So - if I could know anything - I would want to know if I was the one who killed Najib."

God, I do know how to keep the evening cheerful, don't I?



I listen to your story, a bit perplexed. I have to admit, I'm surprised that this would weigh on your conscience all these years - We're predators... we operate by the laws of the jungle, not the park.

It wasn't even a child you knew particularly well...

And as you said, sometimes kiddies end up as collateral damage. Well, that's not exactly what you said.

Oh god, me and my amoral mind... if you felt some kind of connection for the kid, I should be supportive of that... right?

I should say something, now... What's something supportive (and not chilling) to say?

"Oh, my Tiger...It doesn't sound to me like you did anything wrong... you were doing what you had to do for your mission. But - I love that you still have a heart." And I realize with a shock that it's true.

I kiss your forehead gently, and whisper into your hair. "You'll never know, darling. But it's OK to let it go, Sebastian... accidents happen. You did *nothing wrong*... it's life that kills us in the end."

And I put my arms around you and hold you close.



You don't get it... I didn't think you would. I am not even sure if I get it.

I know I did nothing wrong, I know it's circumstance that killed Najib... but it was war that killed him, and war was what I was, what I breathed, what I lived for... still am, in a way. I am death; when I meet people professionally they die. Or others die around them.

And I never felt bad about that. I never particularly wanted anyone to live, after the one person I actually found important was killed by the guy who gave me life. My existence was a dance of death, and I was fucking good at it - still am. I can kill with utmost precision, with silence, with stealth, with speed. And - I know my target, and my target dies. 'Collateral damage' is - inelegant. It's an unprofessional mess, as well as whatever human consideration you want to give it. Which I usually don't, but this time - this one time - I was sick of war, sick of death. I wanted to hang it up there and then.

I didn't, of course. Shrugged it off, got drunk, got another mission, focussed on that. But I never forgot that broken little body. And - I know rationally it doesn't matter if I killed him - he's dead. But somewhere, in a hidden part of me, it matters.

And I'll never know.

And I really should stop being so miserable on my own fucking stag night.

"You're right, my beloved prince... sorry for being all maudlin. It was a long time ago, and there's nothing anyone can do about it..."

I raise my phone.

"Is there something that you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it?"



I observe you closely... I feel like I should still be comforting you, but... I think if our stag night got side-tracked by this, that would just make you even sadder. So... the game continues.

I wrap my arms tightly around you to protect you from everything, your own feelings included...which means the silly game appears to be working its magic.

"Something I've dreamed of doing..." I muse. "All of my dreams were related to the Empire, I thought. But..." My brow furrows. "I guess... it's silly."


You straighten up. "What?"


"It's *silly*..." I look away.




I look at you and sigh. "I liked amusement parks when I was young. Candyfloss. Rides. The lights. The games and the prizes. I went a few times when I was very small... and then Mam promised to take me again, but something always got in the way. Da was in a foul mood. Mam was drunk. Whatever. When I was twelve, I decided I was old enough to go the annual carnival, and I would take Georgie with me. He deserved some fun. And I would win him a huge teddy bear. Anyway. Things didn't work out. By the time the carnival came around, I was in the institution and Georgie was in foster care." I stare off for a moment and then rub my eyes. "And as for why I never did it... I never had anyone else I wanted to go with..." I mumble. Oh this game is magic all right... the memories of dead children and dead dreams are really weaving their enchantment over us. I would fall onto the floor, but we're already on the floor. I bury my face in your chest.




My heart breaks further. I didn’t know it could. What is this game about, beating you down into love? I mean - it does make me love you more - so much - but it seems all we do is tell miserable stories even when we’re avoiding the triggering questions.

I hold you close, kiss you.

“I know I can never replace your brother... but if you’d like to, I’ll go to a fair with you... a small village fair, or a big one here... and I’m sure I can win you the largest teddy bear in the shooting tent...”

I’m not sure if this is helping or making it worse, but you do smile at me.

“Thank you, Tiger...” you look at me. “And what about you?”

I ponder. Maybe I should go a bit more light-hearted?

“Hmmm... I have to say that I have long had fantasies about being owned... being completely at someone’s mercy, being someone’s sex toy, slave, property...

but I think it’s clear why I never did it - no one is good enough, strong enough, intelligent enough... I could never give myself like that to any person, because I could never respect and... revere someone enough to allow them to rule me.

No person... no human person...”

I look into your large black eyes.

I think I’ve managed to distract you...



I imagine us at a fair... walking with my tall, beautiful husband, as I carry an adorable, ridiculously large bear.

You are *so sweet*, and I smile despite myself.

And then... you divulge your dream and it's a *very different* kind of sweet.

"You want to win me a toy... and then be my toy?" I ask innocently.

My body moves against yours sinuously.

"Mmm...*Sebastian*..." I murmur. "The Fates have found the perfect creature for you, my darling... Because you *are* owned... you *are* my property... and you are *absolutely* at my mercy..."

My fangs descend without my willing it, and we both stare at each other, not moving.

Chapter Text

What you will see

Are the threads of what I want you to believe

And all that you hold dear

Is under threat from someone all too near

We who eat the darkness

We who eat the darkness



Your fangs are extending. You are looking a bit taken aback by it yourself - it appears to be an involuntary reaction, much like getting an erection.

You look at me.

I look at you.

I'm not sure what to do, say - I don't want to move away, because you might think that I don't want you to, but I don't want to move towards you either, because you said you wanted to wait until tomorrow - saving me until marriage - hah...

I just stare into your eyes, transfixed, not like a prey hypnotized by the predator; I could move away, but I don't want to, I want you - I want you...



I imagine blood moving under your skin like ruby nectar.

I hear your heartbeat... your warm blood rushing through your veins...

Why did I decide to wait until tomorrow??

Oh yes, so you could recover from *last time*...

Twinges of guilt feel like my heart is being pulled with hooks.

But... you said you wanted it...

and you look like you want it...

"Sebastian?" I whisper.

I take your hand and slowly move the underside of your wrist up to my nose. I breathe in your scent like apple blossoms in an orchard, like fresh bread baking in a kitchen, like vintage wine swirling in a glass...

"Are you feeling strong enough to..." I breathe, and drag my tongue along your warm skin.

I shouldn't be asking you this, it's only been a few days since I nearly *killed* you...

I look up at you through half-closed eyes, feeling myself weaken.

"I would very much like to... drink you, Tiger..." I purr, and press my face into your wrist.



Your eyes are dark and rapturous...

You are the most magnificent creature I’ve ever seen...

And I’m yours...

I want nothing more than to feel you... feel those fangs pierce my skin... feel you take my lifeblood as your own... surrender to you - god, yes...

You smelling me - tasting me - desire filling the air, pregnant with longing...

God, yes, please -

“Please- please Jim, drink me - I want you to - I want nothing more... I want to feel you pierce me, feel your thirst, feel you take my life into your own... I’m yours, Jim... I love you...”

I notice I’ve moved my head back, baring my neck. You’re smelling my wrist but I want you in my neck, closer, holding me...

I pull you towards me.



Oh god, Sebastian... your neck is so much harder to resist...

I shouldn't...

but you want me...

I've dropped your wrist.

I'm staring at the pulse in your neck.

I allow you to draw me closer... closer...

I hear myself murmur, "Darling...Beautiful... Darling..."

And then my fangs slide into your neck.

Careful, Jimmy... only a little...

your sweet smoky blood trickles into my mouth and I moan.






You are coming closer, and I watch it in slow motion, like a moment of life and death... which I guess this is... you are so fucking incredibly beautiful, your eyes half-closed, your mouth slightly open, your fangs extended... coming closer to my neck, coming into my arms... mumbling how beautiful I am...

And then - you are on me; your lips touch my neck - this is it -

Pain as your fangs pierce my skin, my blood vessels - such an intense feeling - I moan softly, surrender into your arms, under your mouth, softly sucking, sucking my blood...

So... good...



Oh god... Sebastian...

Your lifeblood flows across my lips, my tongue...

Your moan fills my ears, reverberates through me...

I suck sensuously, gently, and a rumbling purr sounds in my throat.

Your blood is pouring into me, filling me with intoxicating fire...

I'm shining... *shining* with life and light...

At a distance, I hear you moan...


*Fuck*. With a gasp, I draw back and look at you. I cover your wound with my hand.

I see you opening your eyes, looking up at me, and I practically collapse with relief.

"Sebastian!" I exclaim. "Did I take too much?? How do you feel?!"

I draw a nail sharply across my wrist, and hold it out to you.

"Have just a little, Tiger..." I urge. "It will help your wound close more quickly..."



Your purr vibrates through my body as my blood pours into your mouth.

It feels so good... The first time I didn't really register what was happening, but now I'm fully focussed, it's so sensual... the penetration, the surrender, the flow of life from me into you... my Jim... my love...

Each pulse from the blood flow reverberates through my entire body, like waves of a subtle orgasm...

I moan, sinking deeper into the soft submission...

And then you pull away, and I want to whimper - no - it was so good - come back...

I open my eyes, see a panicked face - no, Jim, I'm fine - I don't just die from a bit of blood loss -

I want to speak, but my muscles are heavy...

Then - the smell of blood - but not like I ever smelled it; rich, dark, heavy - heavenly -

- you want me to drink you?

But that's the wrong way round... I couldn't...

It smells so good though...

I put my lips on your wrist, taste the red ruby liquid on my tongue -

- velvet night, black roses on wolf fur, dark eyes reading my soul - essence of life and death -

I suck eagerly, longing, thirsting –



I watch in fascination as you drink from my wrist, with a look on your face like you've discovered a fountain of nectar and ambrosia.

Well, in some ways that's true... It has the potential to make you an immortal, the closest thing to a god on this green earth...

But not unless I drained you almost to the point of death, which I *won't*. And I don't want to see you become addicted, either...

"That's all you need, Sebastian..." I whisper.

Ruefully, I start to pull back my wrist from your mouth.



No - don't -

I look up at you, my lips wet with your blood. I lick them.

"That was - god, Jim, that's delicious - is that - blood isn't supposed to taste like that, I'm pretty sure - I mean, I haven't drunk a lot of blood in my life, but... is vampire blood special? Is that why you say it will help me heal quicker?"



"Well... I have yet to understand what makes a vampire a *vampire*... the lore is all very supernaturally-based, not scientific at all. But, short answer, yes, vampire blood is special. It's where our immortality comes from, and all our other qualities... quick healing... imperviousness to disease and infection... strength... speed... so you'll have enhanced abilities for a few days. Stamina, recovery time..." I say with a sly smile. "Found me delicious, did you? Your blood is the most wonderful nectar I've ever tasted..." I sigh dreamily, then look at you with concern. "Are you feeling alright?"



"Yes - yes, I feel great. I really loved you drinking from me, that felt... unlike anything I've ever felt; I can't compare it - but it was good. I did feel a bit - heavy, after, but then your blood - did make me feel a lot better."

I sit up, move my arms, my head.

"Yeah - fully clear," I grin. "And -"


Yes, little Seb enjoyed all that too.

Your face is still so close to mine. Your eyes are shining, looking into mine, so -

I lick my lips.

" - and ready for whatever else you might want, Sir..."



I tilt my head and look at you. Mmm... flushed Tiger... horny Tiger...

"Well, then. Why don't we see just how you're affected by vampire blood? For scientific purposes, of course..."

I arch an eyebrow at you, and move against your pelvis, feeling your cock against mine.

"What are you waiting for? Big, strong Tiger..." I lick my lips back at you.

"*Fuck me*," I growl.



Little Seb is very interested. As is big Seb.

Fuck you...

god, yes - I'm rock hard, though I don't think that's due to the vampire blood - how could I not be, with those eyes on me, that voice saying 'fuck me'...

I moan, lift you up - huh. That is easier than it would have been. I am strong, but lifting you from where we're both sitting down on the floor should be harder. Interesting. Also completely irrelevant, because now I'm throwing you onto the bed, grabbing the lube from the nightstand, and diving on top of you, kissing you voraciously.



You lift me up like a feather, and my breath catches in my throat as I feel the strength radiating from you.



You're already so strong, but this...





Especially as I'm thrown to the bed, and a randy Tiger plasters himself against me, devouring my lips...



I wrap my legs around you and moan low in my throat.



My Jim, my vampire, my dark prince, my lord, my Richard, my bunny, my love, my life, my everything...

I’m going to have you, all of you, so good, so hard, so often...

I can’t think of anything except you and fucking you - you are divine, you are shining, I’m not imagining it, there is an ethereal glow to you, and it’s pulling me in, inexorably, like a black hole - oh wait, that’s not very romantic. Like a powerful magnet, like a god calling his priest... I’d move heaven and earth to be with you, but you’re *right here*, so I’m going to move heaven and earth for you...

I slick you, myself, kissing you like I can find salvation in your saliva, and push myself close - oh god - Jim



*God*... you've never kissed me like this before, and we've kissed a *lot* in the days we've been together since we met...


Mental... I can't imagine spending a *single day* without you...

Is this because of the quiz? The bite? The blood?

Because we're hours away from our wedding day?


*Fuck yes*...

"Want you..." I mutter feverishly in between kisses, "I *want you*, Tiger..."



Wantwantwant... want is all I am, all I can think, all that exists... and the object of this want is in my arms, pushing himself against me, and moaning that he wants me... and I’m going to marry him tomorrow - and I’m so incredibly in love and I’m floating...

I push inside, so good, so perfect, made for me, no, I was made for you; I was made for loving you baby; ohh god -

That blood was like a combination of coke and ecstasy, but better...

and you are the devil and his angels, all in one divine package, and I’m yours, but you’re mine too, because the world needs to be in balance, and I push in further and you’re moaning, and feeling so incredible...



It doesn't take much to get what I ask for... soon, you're obliging me, and I feel the head of your cock pushing into me. Soon your cock is advancing into me, and I'm groaning loudly. You seem deliciously *high* from my blood, and it's made you completely intoxicated for me... which is making me intoxicated for you, but it's our stag night anyway, and why shouldn't we be as plastered and love-drunk as we want?

As you start to move in me, I'm pushing back against you, moaning out your name.

The bed springs are already squeaking...

The bed frame is already thumping against the wall...

I suspect this is going to be very energetic and loud... I yank your head back by the hair, and bring down your neck to my lips. I press my tongue to the dried wound on your neck. Then nipping it, I lick up the drops of blood that spill from your skin.

I lick my lips, feeling my eyes glow. Bringing your mouth down to mine, I kiss you hungrily.



You’re biting again - so good - the sensation melds so perfectly with my cock inside you; I’ll have to ask you to drink from me when we’re fucking - oh wait, you did, the first time - but that doesn’t count; we didn’t know what was going on - who we were - who we are - together, meant to be together, forever - well - kind of - oh fuck no don’t think about that; most people never get this and you’re miffed that you’re not immortal? Fuck off, Moran...

Oh god you’re incredible...

“Jim... so good...” I moan. “I love you... god I love you...”

I reach for your hard cock, start stroking. I want you to enjoy this every little bit as much as I am...



"I love you, Sebastian..." I murmur. "So much, darling..."

Your hand on my cock obliterates all thought.

There is only moaning, and whimpering, and calling out your name.

"oh fuck... oh fuck... so good," I rave, and buck against your hips, as you thrust into me and stroke me.

"God... Tiger... *Tiger*..." I cry out and my head falls back against the pillow.

So close.

so close...



This is heightened, sharpened, sweetened; I feel everything so acutely and it's divine... my Jim, my love, around me, so unbearably good, your moans, your words, each of them sparking of a tingle of electricity in my brain, shimmering right down to my cock, your face so rapturous, and I explode, my body jerks, spasms with pleasure, all my muscles tense, all my nerves vibrate, as an orgasm so intense it's beyond endurance tears me apart and shatters me through the universe... and you shatter with me, I hear your shout and feel your wetness against me, and we disperse together, to the farthest reaches of space...



I'm shattering... disintegrating... unravelling...

wave after rolling wave of shivering, shuddering vibrations threatening to tear me apart...

in the distance, I hear you moaning... gasping... sighing...

You're coming inside me, and I've come hard in your hand.

Slowly I return to my body, to the room - pinned underneath you, your cock in my arse, trying to hold yourself up so as not to collapse on me.

I lift my head weakly. You look stunned as you look down at me.

"I did mention sex as a vampire is more intense, didn't I?" I mumble, then drop my head back onto the pillow. And apparently it's even more intense when your partner has been imbibing vampire blood...

I grin up at you, and stroke your face.

"This... is going to be a fucking *intense* honeymoon, Tiger..." I purr.



"I'm... not even... a vampire..." I manage to gasp, as I give up the fight to hold myself above you - I must stop thinking of you as weak because you're small, you're not going to collapse under my weight - and let myself sink onto you, breathing heavily.

You're not breathing. Of course not, but it's a bit - odd, after such an intense shag, to have only one party panting. At least you have the decency to drop your head like it's too much effort to hold it up.

I breathe in your neck, your wonderful scent, incomparable to anything I've ever smelled, it's just - you. I don't think I can ever move again.

"I survived Lord Moran, Eton, Oxford, Afghanistan, and Iraq... but I fear that my honeymoon may well turn out to be what does me in..."



I smile as you let yourself collapse onto me, and then breathe me in. Your weight on me is comforting. Your face in my neck is out of this world.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll survive it... I won't allow you to be done in, Tiger..." I whisper in your ear.

I place my hand on your head, and play with your hair absently.

"Forgot to mention vampire blood will make you sleep more during the day. Do you want to continue the game?"



“Hnnnzhgn,” I reply, reach out a hand, find a bottle, but it’s empty. I roll off you, flopping dramatically, roll off the bed, drag myself to the fridge, open it, open a beer, and take a big sip.

“That’s better. I swear, you will be the death of me...”

You look uncertain if you should be concerned -

“Not the blood drinking - that’s fine. It’s the intense sex that is going to give me a heart attack...”

I drag myself back up onto the bed.

“Game. Right. I think it’s working. I’m definitely madly in love with you...

Where were we... oh... what’s the greatest accomplishment of your life?”



At 'madly in love', I beam at you and snuggle up into the crook of your arm.

"Greatest accomplishment... the Empire, hands down. With a close second being killing my maker..." I feel my eyes glint dangerously. "I still dream of it... he never saw it coming."

For a moment I see my maker's face overcome with shock and horror as I come at him with a gleaming axe...

I shiver with delight and look up at you. "So... crime and power... intrigue and murder... the jewels in my crown."

I extend my arms out in a grandiose gesture. "The Secret Life of Richard Brook..." I whisper, grinning.



“Deadliest bunny on the Northern Hemisphere,” I grin.

“I’m all sticky - someone threw champagne over me. Want to have a quick shower, deadly bunny?”

We head to the shower and wash each other lovingly, exploring every inch, tracing muscles and scars, you fussing about your bite mark, and saying it should heal quickly, me saying it’s fine, it’s hardly noticeable, looking at the line in your wrist, which already looks a day old and well underway to healing. Interesting. The army could do with some vampires... plenty of operations in the dark and the strength, perception, charm, and fast healing would come in very handy.

Rations might be an issue though.

“So what about you, Tiger? What is your greatest accomplishment?”

“Getting into the SAS,” I answer without hesitation. “The selection process is quite gruelling, only ten per cent of applicants make it - and these are guys who are already the cream of the army; each and every one of them thinks they have what it takes. Getting through - and then excelling - definitely my greatest accomplishment.”



The shower is blissful. I can't believe I get to do this every day... sexy time and snuggle time with my gorgeous fiancé, *husband* after today.

And I am *loving* getting to know you with this ridiculous quiz. It's alarmingly soppy, and I *don't care*.

"I'm not at all surprised to hear you excelled in the SAS... I can tell just by looking at you that you'd be gifted and exceptional at what you do. Not just at killing, although that is a fine quality..." I look at you admiringly. "And to think, there were such favourable reports about you as a contractor, and I was too wrapped up in my own existential vampire melodrama to pay attention! When I was alive, I would have checked you out *very* thoroughly..." My lips quirk. "Especially when I would have seen a photo in your file. Oh, our paths definitely would have crossed. Only... I was rather horrid then, compared to when you met me. I'm glad you met the deadly bunny first, before the monster inside." I nip at your neck playfully, before we leave the shower.

"So why did you leave the SAS?" I ask curiously, as you towel me off. A shadow crosses over your face. "Sorry. Ugh. Tiger, we keep doing this. Do you get the impression that we're terrible at light-hearted evenings? Tell me another time, darling. Whenever you're ready."

I stare at you, dying to know.





That seems like a logical question.


"It's ok - I said I got nothing to hide, and I don't - it's just - well. Not the happiest memory. I loved the SAS, really did - well, you know, I told you, loved my patrol mates. But -" I sigh. "I'm just - I suck at following orders. Not yours, of course, but - the thing with the army is that sometimes you get orders that you know don't make sense - and they expect you to follow them anyway. No questions asked.

So - early on in the army, I learnt to deal with that - I wanted to move on, so I accepted it as something I had to bear in order to progress. And when I got into the SAS - there's much more autonomy, you're more trusted as an adult who knows what they're doing. So I kind of got spoilt. I was good at what I did, I was good at assessing situations, I trusted my mates, they trusted me, we worked like one smooth body - it was great. As long as they let us do our job, we were the best. I excelled at strategy, was made captain of my troop, I was at the summit of my career.

So - I guess you can tell where this is going. I got cocky - thought I could do what I wanted. But the army is still the army, and you still don't punch the major during a strategy briefing, even if his briefing is idiotic and he won't listen to reason.

It was the straw that broke the camel's back, they said; I'd had a lot of black marks against me, but they'd kept me on because of my success rate, but in the end, I was 'not SAS material'. That hurt the most. I know that it was bullshit, it was just them saying that they needed elite soldiers, but obedient elite soldiers, like Robocop or something, and they just couldn't deal with someone who thought for himself. Fine when it saved the day - hey, well done Moran, have a beer, have a promotion, but then when your knowledge and experience and intelligence goes against a senior officer - it's suddenly insubordination and you're out on your arse.

With a shining record, daddy dearest made sure of that - wouldn't want the neighbours to know his son was dishonourably discharged - bad enough that he went into the army in the first place, instead of polishing the seats in the House of Lords with a rapidly fattening arse.

Anyway. I didn't want to leave. So - if the next question is 'what is the worst accomplishment of your life,' that's it."

You are looking at me with a face that's an improbable mixture of pride and pity.

"*However*," I say, forcing a smile, "If I'd stayed in the desert, how would I have met you? So - without knowing it, they gave me the ultimate gift - the chance to meet the love of my life..."



I think about your story as we return naked to the bedroom. You sit cross-legged on the bed, looking somewhat dejected.

"The love of your life has a few thoughts. First, I'm sorry that this experience caused you pain, Sebastian." (Good empathizing, vampire psychopath. *Very* good.)

I open the fridge, take out a beer and twist off the cap. I have a sip and then hand it over, before sitting next to you.

"Second, any institution, no matter how elite, is built on a foundation of obedience and compliance. So, no point in banging your head against that particular wall."

I tap my lips with my fingers, pensively.

"Ah, yes... third! *Fuck* them if they couldn't see your value or worth... this is exactly what's *wrong* with institutions and their cookie-cutter mentality."

Eyes flashing, I swipe your beer from you and have another sip.

"Finally, fourth. Speaking as James Moriarty, and *not* your cuddly vampire bunny, if I were given two versions of you to choose from - elite soldier or obedient elite soldier, which do you think I would choose? A mindless, spineless killing machine who can't think for himself when the situation calls for it? Or a potential pain in the arse who gets in my face when the unspeakable happens and I've made a wrong bloody call?"

I place your bottle back in your hand, and wrap it firmly in my own.

"Darling, please remind me to send the SAS a thank-you card - for training you to be the best fucking special forces soldier - that they've ever seen, I imagine. And then for not having the vision and intelligence to understand how *incalculable* your value is... do you know how many employees I've had that *didn't* meet my standards? *All of them*, Sebastian. *Not a bloody one*. You're the only one I would ever trust to be my second in command, and I'm not saying that because of my *feelings* or how breathtaking you are in bed."

My hand curls around the back of your neck. I lean my forehead against yours, and in a low voice I say, "You can see your experience as the SAS doing you wrong, if you want. Or you can see it as the SAS teaching you everything they could, until you had outgrown them. And then *you* chose to release yourself from the bondage of subservience to rules that didn't make sense... *You* chose to act in a way that guaranteed you were released back into the wilderness, where you belong. Where you met the one person who could give you... everything you've been looking for."

I pull back and look at you intently. "All the adventure and intrigue of your life with the SAS... but answering only to the one person you can truly ally yourself with, who has knowledge and experience and intelligence that you respect, and knows when to defer to *yours*."

I take your face in my hands.

"You weren't the only one who was looking for something without even realizing it. You're *The One*, Sebastian...The One I've been waiting for."



Yeah, sorry Moriarty, but you don’t strike me as someone who deals well with insubordination...

... however, you do seem like someone who recognizes good advice when he hears it. This is probably because I’m madly in love, but I can’t imagine you persisting in a bad course after it’s been explained. You're too smart.

Wait - your second in command?

The One you've been waiting for?

"Wait - what, Jim? Are you offering me a job?"



I tilt my head, watching you. "That is what it sounds like, isn't it?" I say lightly. "Unless you prefer to keep doing contract work... which apparently has been indirectly for me, anyway?"

My brow furrows. "I have an Empire that I've been ignoring, somewhat... You have the makings of a second in command. But this is our honeymoon, no important decisions need to be made. Think about it," I say offhandedly. *Of course* you're going to work for me. This is not up for debate.

I wrap my arms around you, and kiss you soundly.



Well - it does seem to make sense -

I mean, I couldn't keep doing contract work where I could be hired by your competition - and then if I start refusing work that's not for you, I might as well work for you.

Second in command though? That's quite - a lot of trust to put in someone you haven't seen work - well, I guess you've heard stories about Mr Fox... but that's just that I can shoot the right person. Nothing special.

But you're right.


We have all our lives to discuss work.




I have a swig of my beer, take my phone.

"What do you value most in a friendship?"



"Irrelevant question. I don't have friends. I've never had friends. Next!"



You never had friends? What - never? I mean - I am Mr Antisocial, and even I had friends - at school, and then my army mates -

But, no - wait -

"You do. You have a friend. At least one."



I look at you, perplexed. “My imaginary friend Richard?”



"Fuck off," I laugh, but you're looking serious.

"Jim!" I look at you, gesture at myself indignantly.



I’m taken aback. “*Friend*? But you’re more than that! Much more!”



"I - would hope so. But - I also am your friend." I gesture helplessly. "Being a lover, even a fiancé, a husband, is great - and I plan to be the best one I could possibly be - but - a friend is someone who - just loves and accepts you for who you are, who enjoys being with you regardless of what you do, who supports you being whatever you want to be. I want to be your friend as well as the much more."



I look at you dubiously. “Like... Georgie was my friend as well as my little brother?”

I shrug helplessly. “Really I was more of a bossy mother hen than anything... if that’s what I’m like with a ‘friend’... heaven help you if you get sick or hurt...”



“I’m already familiar with that, thank you,” I grin. “You start shoving soup at people...

Alright, next question-“ I hope it’s not a sad one - “what’s your most treasured memory?”



"Yes, well. When soup is being shoved at you, maybe you should be a good patient and eat the damn soup."

I tousle your hair.

"My most treasured memory... I don't have many memories I *treasure*, so it stands out rather clearly..."

I sigh.

"Georgie and I went to an event put on by the local church. There was a picnic and games and prizes, and then at dusk they played a film on an outdoor screen. I didn't get on with the other kids, but Georgie was so happy, it made me feel happy to be there with him... watching him, playing with him. He won a stuffed elephant and he was so happy. It was small, but you should have seen his eyes light up. He made up a song and sang it to the elephant. It was so silly, and we just laughed our arses off. I think it was what childhood was supposed to be? But what do I know, I didn't really have that. But for that one day... we had lovely sandwiches and crisps... and we stuffed ourselves with biscuits and ice cream... and later with the film, they handed out popcorn. We threw it each other's mouths, and mostly missed. It was grand. The film was... The Dark Crystal. And Georgie was a bit frightened, but he had me to protect him. I put my arm around his shoulders, and we watched it, sitting in the grass. It was magic... being out in the evening... I wanted the day to never end... to never go home..."

I shrugged. "But it did. And we did. And life continued..."

I take your hand. "I didn't have another enchanting evening again... until you.



Oh god...

I’ve never had siblings, so I can’t relate to what it’s like to love someone like that, but you seem to have been really fond of him. I wonder what happened...

I will find out some time, but not now.

“I’m glad I make your evenings enchanting...” I smile.

“Mine, if we don’t count you, would be...”

... god... no idea. I can’t mention David, definitely.

“Hard to say... I don’t really have great childhood memories, though I didn’t have a bad one or anything, just - no lovely memories like the one you mentioned.

I think - wait, yes - I was... twelve, I think? And my grandmother took me to India, visiting places she’d lived. It was just her and me, my parents weren’t there, and it was lovely - she showed me all these interesting places, told me stories.

So one day we went to the beach, and it was very quiet, in the middle of nowhere, and we stayed there all day, her reading her book in the shade, me swimming, then lying in the sun, then reading, then swimming again. And - I don’t know why, I’d been on holiday before, I’d been at the sea before, but I just felt so - so at peace, and happy; I had my whole life ahead of me, I’d started rebelling against my father, I was developing my own - life and personality and I felt on top of the world on that abandoned beach in India. I guess the rest of my life was me trying to realize what that young boy dreamed he could be.

Does that make any sense?”



I picture you at twelve, relaxed and happy in the sun, on your way to becoming the man you now are.

"Of course, darling... having a sense of who you are, separate from your stupid, fucked up parents... having a moment of freedom, and seeing the pure potential of who you could be. It's how I felt with Georgie... sensing the life we could have. Before everything fell to pieces. Sounds like it was the same for you?" I sigh. "*Life*. Really kicks you in the teeth, doesn't it. But maybe... this is our second chance, Tiger?" I say hesitantly. Suddenly it's what I want, more than anything.

I hold your hand against my face. "Everything we wanted that we couldn't have... maybe we can have it now... I never believed life could be good... that I could find some semblance of happiness... but you..." I lean in and kiss you. "You make me believe, Tiger."



I feel fiercely happy - more than the superficial ecstasy of infatuation, the heady joy of the past days - this is a deep happiness that reaches into the dark recesses of my core, where I never believed the sun could shine again. And it’s not the sun which has reached it... it’s the silver moon reflected in a still lake, the stars over the desert, the scales of a snake sliding through the undergrowth at night - it’s the warmth and beauty of the dark filling me, melting the coldness, making me feel truly, deeply happy.

I pull you close, kiss your brow.

“I don’t know... we can never know. I certainly didn’t think I’d ever be happy - or would deserve to be happy. But you reach parts of me that I thought had died for good... and I’m wondering for the first time whether that boy on that beach may still get the life he felt he could reach.”

I look into your eyes. “Oh, look at us, creatures of the night, the vampire and the assassin; two soppy teenagers in love...

... and I fucking love it,” I grin, squeezing you against me.

I pick up my phone again. I’m not touching the next four questions - we’ll leave those for our anniversary.

Question 22 seems safe.

“Taking turns, share five things you regard as positive traits of your partner.”



Your face and eyes have lit up at my words, and I'm in awe... you're gazing at me like I'm the most important thing under the sun. I *am*, aren't I... I want to hug myself. Two soppy teenagers in love is right...

"All right... One. Damn if you're not the sexiest thing I have ever met in my life. No wonder I had to have you... and keep you instead of feasting on you. Good call, Moriarty...


Two. You're also the sweetest thing I've ever met. You make me melt... and as I've already whinged about and will continue to do so... you've *ruined* me as a heartless monster. Thanks a bunch, Tiger.


Three. You're so *funny* and *silly*, and you make me laugh. I was *never* looking for a man to call my own, but if I had been... believe me, I would *not* have included 'funny' on my list. My colossal oversight...


Four. I *would* have included submissive, which oh god, you are, you *are*... and it's so much better with you than with anyone else; it's *laughable* to think of what I was used to.

Your surrender is *sublime*... you're mine, utterly mine, I *own* you... and you love it. That's the most amazing gift *ever*.

But you can also turn around and be a sexy, aggressive fucker, and give me another kind of gift, and *oh*, I like that, too... very much.


Five. Honestly this is impossible... how do I choose just five? (Ridiculous quiz, Sebastian...)

I can't not include this... You're a predator, like me. You hunt. You kill. And you *enjoy* it. I know this in my bones... one predator to another, like calls to like... I'm just upset I haven't seen it in action yet..." I make a sad face. "Perhaps an opportunity will come up on our honeymoon... wouldn't that be lovely? Otherwise, when we return home... I could accompany you on one of your hits? I'll stick to the shadows, I won't make a peep... pretty please, my darling..." I bat my eyelashes at you and grin. "And make it good and bloody... for me?"



What bit about taking turns didn't you understand? But you're singing my praises so beautifully, I am not going to interrupt.

Sexy... well, yes, thank you for noticing...

Sweet? Aw - only for you, babe...

Funny and silly? Excuse me. I deny everything.

Submissive - oh god yes darling... yours... fuck...

Predator? You want to see me hunt? make it good and bloody? Well... you little bloodthirsty fiend. But I think I should be able to accommodate...

"Sure, darling. Send me after someone and I'll make them bleed. You don't even have to stick to the shadows - I've done hits with people there before, if they wanted to interrogate the mark first. I can bring someone in on a silver platter with an apple in their mouth ready for you to devour, if you like..."

I smile - am enjoying the opportunity to show off for you. It's not often that you meet someone who appreciates your skill in killing...


"As for you... pfooh..." I look you up and down. I guess I shouldn't just repeat everything you said back at you, but damn, you are the sexiest person alive… or dead, whatever...

"I'll go with your intelligence first. I love how sharp your mind is, how astute your observations, the fact that you'd managed to single-handedly build a criminal empire by the time you were twenty-five... is quite amazing.

Second, well. You are the hottest thing on two legs. You're just - gorgeous and incredibly sexy. You'll never lack for willing prey... it must be hard being an ugly vampire... anyway. I only have to look at you to get carried away...

Third - well, I don't want to just ape everything you said, but your dominance - I've never met anyone who - with others it was always a game - a fun game, but not real. I could never really submit to anyone, because I never respected anyone enough for it. With you... you are just... fuck, your eyes make my knees weak, my breath halt, and my entire body, my entire being just want to surrender... and it's so hot to belong to you...

Fourth - your strength? Call me shallow, but it's fucking hot to have a partner who is stronger than I am. And it's not just your physical strength - your personality, your force of character, are stronger than anything I've ever seen and it's... wow.

Fifth - ok, I am totally imitating you, but yeah. Your predatorial side. The way you stalk, identify, swoop down, and kill your prey with pinpoint accuracy.

Can you live with those?"



I can feel my eyes glow at the prospect of you killing for me. Why did I not think of this before?? I can't wait to go on a killing date... whatever will I wear?

Visions of fetching ensembles are pushed aside temporarily as you start outlining my best qualities.

God... this is like narcissist catnip. I should insist you do this daily.

Oh... *purr*...

"Can I live with you thinking I'm a hot, dominant, powerful predator, who happens to be a genius...? I think I can, as long as it's not the only time you'll tell me."

I grab your beer bottle from you and finish it, then get up and to fetch us more. It's really not my drink, but we're out of champagne, and I'm not sure what else I want... highly unusual for me, but it's a highly unusual situation - getting smashed in Vegas on my stag night.

Well, that's an exaggeration - I'm tipsy more than anything...

Strangely I seem more unsteady on the way back than when I first got up...

I fall into your lap and you catch me to keep me from falling onto the floor.

"Thank you, my sexy, sweet, submissive predatory darling..." I exclaim. "Oh no! I forgot one... what was it?"


"Silly?" you say, amused.


"That's right, Sebastian... you're very silly..." I inform you, and boop your nose, before giggling helplessly.



Oh god - you're getting drunk.

I have a drunk giggling lovestruck vampire on my lap.

I have no idea what to do in this situation, but your giggle is infectious, and makes me giggle too, which makes you laugh even more, and before we know it we're helplessly guffawing in each other's arms. I might be a bit tipsy too? I have hardly drunk anything... it must be the blood loss. It's pleasant though...

"You are silly..." I giggle.

"Noooo," you protest. "That wasn't on your list. I am beautiful, dominant, strong, predatory, and a genius. See, I remember all!"

I lift you more or less upright and open our beers, hand one to you, clink our bottles.

"Cheers, my predatory genius. Next question?"



"Cheers to your pretty face, m'dear," I say gallantly, trying desperately not to laugh. I throw my arms around your neck, and rest my face against yours. "What's the next question, then?"

As you scroll on your phone and tighten your arm around me, I kiss your cheek with a resounding smack, then give you a horrified look.

"I have a secret to tell... Richard appears to be appallingly inebre- ineb - *drunk*..." I say in a shocked voice. "And a certain Tiger is barely tipsy, which reflects rather poorly on Richard! Shall we order you a lot of whisky?"



"Richard's not inebriated, he's in Vegas," I joke, making you fall over with giggles.

"We have whisky," I say, getting the bottle, pouring myself a generous measure and taking a big gulp. Whoa... nice...


The next questions are about family and your mother - no way.

The next question that looks safe is "Make three true 'we' statements each, for example: 'We are both in this room feeling..."

I look at you. "... feeling quite drunk and madly in love..."



"I don't get it..." I blink at you. "Do I have to say 'we are both in this room feeling'?"

I hiccup and look at you, shocked. "Vampires can hiccup?" I say with wide eyes.



They shouldn't have put the harder questions at the end... I'm about to explain when you hiccup and look so comically puzzled at this that I can't help but jump you and kiss you all over your face. "How can you hiccup when you don't breathe? Did you forget not to breathe?" I murmur into your neck.

I realize I'm sitting on your lap - that feels so odd; I wouldn't ever sit on a smaller guy's lap - but you are so strong and why not?

"What the question meant," I try again, "is that you say something that applies to both of us. Like I did - we are both drunk, we love each other madly..."



"Just because I don't need to breathe, doesn't mean I can't," I say loftily. "In fact, I do breathe sometimes... when things are getting sexy. I like how it feels..." I look at you through half-closed eyes, and lean up to kiss you, then hiccup again.

"Fuck-" *hic* "Fuck's sake..."

I sigh heavily. "See? That's breathing," I mutter. "Alright... We are both impatient to be married?"


"Fuck's sake!"



You look so cute when you're angry...

... I'm also pretty sure that those would be famous last words if uttered out loud...

"Yeah, about that..."

You look at me, I look away, my face downcast.

"I... think I've changed my mind. We shouldn't get married."



I feel like my stomach has plummeted.


"But... *why*?" I demand, staring at you through a haze of anger and hurt. "*Why*??"



I thought it would be a good idea to startle you and cure your hiccups, then have a laugh about it - but your face - oh god you look so hurt and upset - Jim -

"Jim!!! I never! I wanted to - look, your hiccups are gone! That's all I wanted - a quick scare - of course I want to marry you - how could you ever doubt -"



I stare at you, perplexed. "Oh..." I shake my head drunkenly. "Jesus *Christ*, Sebastian... you'd better pray you never get the hiccups around me..." I say dubiously. Then I can't help but snigger at the look on your face. "Thank you for getting rid of my hiccups? Idiot Tiger..." I say fondly.

I take your hand and stare at it. "I think... I'm afraid I can't have a happy ending..." I confess in a small voice. "So deep down, I guess I've been thinking something will stop us... even if it was you deciding marrying a vampire psychopath was a bad idea, after all... " I sigh again. "And the worst part is, you wouldn't even be wrong! I shouldn't have got angry, Tiger..." I say sadly. I kiss your hand, and hold it against my cheek. "If you change your mind before the ceremony, I'll respect that..."



“Jim - no - oh sweetheart-“

I press your hand against my lips, look at your sad big eyes - how could you think -

“Jim... I’d never... look, I promised you... I’m yours... I saw the vampire psychopath and fully consciously made the choice that that is the man I love and whom I will marry... it was a joke, I thought you’d startle out of your hiccups and then laugh - I didn’t realize you were actually having those thoughts deep down...”

I stroke your temple.

“Yours, Jim, always... and anything that tries to stop us will have me to contend with... I don’t think much of its chances...” I growl low in my throat, making you smile, thank god.

“We are indeed impatient to be married! Stupid bureaucracy having us wait for a licence even in Vegas! Stupid licence bureau not being open after midnight! But -“ I look at the clock next to the bed, “twenty-four hours from now, we will be Mr and Mr Moran... and I can’t wait to see you say I do...”



Slightly soothed, I rest my head against your shoulder.

"God... I'm like a fecking minefield...that you went frolicking though... and then decided to live in forever!" I shake my head again. "*We* are mental. That's two for me..."



"And two for me - I said that twenty-four hours from now we will be Mr and Mr Moran... which fills me with joy and warm and fuzzy feelings. See what you've done? I'm the strong, silent loner type, and here I am all cuddly and giggly with my crush..." I crush you in my arms, making you giggle again.

"You're nowhere near drunk enough though - drink!" you exhort, filling up my whisky glass to the brim.

I take a goodly swig, but you are not satisfied - "Bottoms up Tiger!" and push the bottom of my glass. I swallow urgently, the smoky liquid burning down my throat, and you're not letting up until the glass is empty.

- I felt that -

"Whoa Jim - that's not beer... and I've lost some blood..." I need to blink a couple of times to reduce you back to one Jim instead of three.



"Oh, darling! I should order protein for you... otherwise, you're liable to pass out..." Pushing aside your protests, I nudge you off my lap and onto the bed. Then I try to stand and promptly fall in a heap.

You lunge to try and catch me, but I'm already blinking up at you from the floor.

"Not a word, or I'm ordering you soup," I warn, and haul myself to a wobbly standing position to snatch up the hotel phone.

"Why hello, Room Service!" I say suavely as I lean against the bedside table. "I'm getting married tomorrow! And I need to order my fiancé a steak and a roast chicken and..." I cover the mouthpiece. "Tiger! Do you want sausages?"



"NO! I don't want roast chicken either! Just steak will do. And chips. Fries!" I protest.

You order a steak and fries and hang up giggling. I don't know what's so funny, but I laugh as well, and the mirth only increases when I see you stumble back to the bed - very unsteady on your feet. I'm glad when you land safely in my arms.

"We are both uncharacteristically giggly tonight... that's three from me..." I laugh.



"Erm... we are both hotter than hell..." I announce grandly. "I mean... look at us! Just *look*," I say emphatically, with a comically wide-eyed expression.

"Mr Sex," I say, pointing at myself. "Mr Sex," I purr, tapping your nose.

"Are we agreed?"



"Mr and Mr Sex are in total agreement," I concede. I reach for my beer and take a big gulp. "Though I have the feeling Mr Sex is getting a bit the worse for wear... and I believe I promised you a stripper, didn't I?"