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A Birthday Bite

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Baz sighed into the crook of my neck, while I lay there, eyes wide, trying my best to catch my breath. Sometimes I forgot that Baz had the energy to outpace me in bed. Or rather, he could leave me breathless after. And surprised. 


All it took was me telling him that Penny wasn’t going to be back tonight, so we had the apartment to ourselves. Then it was as if there were no restraints. And I was sure that I was the one to be left sore the next day.


“Happy birthday, Baz,” I managed to get out.


“Hmm.” Baz rolled over a bit so that he was rested more against my shoulder. He reached over and began to trace the freckles and moles on my chest. It was dark, but I knew he could see them. “Are you sure you are tired, Snow?”


He used Snow when he was purposely trying to get my goat. “Yes, Baz. I am, for once, tired .”


“Can’t go once more?”


“No, Baz!”


He chuckled and rolled off to his back and stretched his arms above him. He rested them under his head. “Yes, happy birthday to me .”


“Did you drain a whole herd of sheep or something?”


“No, actually. I’m a bit thirsty.” Baz sighed. “I don’t want to get up, though.”


I rolled over to him and kissed along his collarbone. “Don’t go, then.”


“I’ll wait until you fall asleep.”


“How much do you need?”


“Not much. The cake and duck was actually quite filling.” His fingers threaded through my hair. I loved when he did that. It was so comforting, and he usually did that after in attempts to get me to fall asleep.


I thought. We’d learned a lot about vampires during and after Las Vegas. We’d learned that vampires could bite and kill. They could bite and turn. But they could also bite and just take a sip. Even so, Baz rarely went after humans. Just when he needed a proper fill. Like a top off of petrol.


I sat up. I didn’t know how to broach the subject. Baz rarely talked about anything about vampirism these days. It no longer tormented him, either. It was just...something that was part of him. I looked down at him. He looked properly blissed out, with hooded eyes and a smile on his lips. He reached over and took my hand. He happy.


I had a question to ask, and I knew if I asked it, it would either ruin the day, or would make it complete.






“Have you ever thought of...well, with…”


“Simon, I cannot read your mind.”


I subconsciously put my hand to my neck, with my fingers tracing my artery.


Baz seemed to get my meaning immediately. His eyes darkened slightly, but these days he had the ability to not get completely angry at my nonsense. “No, Simon.”


“Even’s all you need?”


“Simon. No. I won’t even discuss it.”


“Oh.” I sighed. “Sorry. I didn’t think. Just, forget I said anything.”


Baz’s eyes softened. “It's alright, Simon.” He pulled at my arm, so I settled once more against his side. 



Simon slowly fell asleep at my side. I knew he was curious about what it would be like to be bitten, but, I had sworn to myself to never bite him or any of our friends. It wasn’t that I couldn’t control myself. But I didn’t want to place any temptation on myself. 


And it just felt wrong.


That didn’t mean that I was not teased by the possibility nearly every day. Right now I could sense the beat of Simon’s heart. He was going to head into a deep sleep soon. I could also sense the sound of his blood moving around in his body. And, under my fingers, I felt the pulse of his arteries. 


Vampires could just bite into the artery and get a steady fount of blood that would soon kill a person. Most uncouth vampires did that. Those who were more educated about themselves knew they didn’t have to do this. But the neck was a convenient place to bite. Most of the animal world knew that. You could snap a neck. Strangle someone. Cut off breath and blood flow. Incapacitate someone. And like a lion holding down the jugular of a gazelle, a vampire knew just how much pressure was needed to kill, or to let them go.


I grimaced at myself.


I was getting more thirsty, now. I started to extricate myself from under Simon without waking him. It was a fruitless endeavor. He mumbled something and grabbed at the pillow as soon as I was sat up. “I don’t like you going out alone at night.”


“I can handle myself.” My hand brushed through his hair. I leaned over to press a kiss to his cheek. Then, to his neck.


“Are you sure you don’t want to?”


I blinked. Simon was looking up at me sleepily. I could suddenly make out his pulse under my hand.




“Look,” he rolled onto his back, and turned his head to the side. His fingers traced down his neck. “It’s fine. Just...right here.”


It was tempting. So very tempting. I was warm from sex, and slightly buzzed from wine, and full from duck. Simon had only drunk one or two sips of wine, so I knew he was not inebriated. 


He took my hand and put it where his hand just had been. I traced my fingers down his neck, and enjoyed the beat of his blood under my fingers. I could hear his heart. I could hear the blood moving in and out of it. Almost like sloshing.


“It will hurt,” was all I could say.


“I know.”


I settled down against him. He brought his arms about me in a loose embrace, with one hand at the back of my neck. 


Was I really going to do this? To Simon?


I kissed his neck and just breathed him in. He smelled of sweat and sex and duck. And he was so warm . Like a furnace. So warm and so alive.


I licked up his neck.




I’ve never done that before, and I could feel him shiver under me. I think I’d touched a sensitive spot. Or maybe he was just caught off guard. I kissed him again, then sucked at the flesh under my lips. I pressed myself against him.


“It’s okay, Baz,” he whispered. His fingers were in my hair. 


My fangs dropped, and I bit him.


Simon grunted. His body flinched, and his fingers grabbed at me a little tighter. His heart beat a little bit faster, which made the flow into my mouth a bit better. I drank slowly. I wanted to savor this. I never wanted to do this again.


Simon breathed out little soft grunts now and then. I wondered how it felt? 


I knew I was only to take a little. Just a pint, as if he was donating blood. So I went slow. So very slow, between drawing blood and allowing it to clot up.


He was delicious. Like gilded honeyed syrup on my tongue.



It hurt.


It didn’t hurt as much as other injuries I’d had, but it did hurt. I could feel Baz’s fangs inside me. Hard and round. They moved subtly, and he kept them in, I guess, to make sure the wound didn’t close up. I felt my pulse moving in a weird way. Like it was fighting against something. Blood was going to a place it shouldn’t have gone.


I felt oddly connected to Baz, then. Every touch he held against my skin seemed highlighted. His lips against my neck were like velvet. It was soothing. And this weird comforting feeling came from the site, despite the pain.


Like I was being drugged.


I guessed that made sense. It was better for the predator if the prey was submissive.


Baz kept making these noises, as if whatever he was tasting (well I’m sure it was blood, of course)(but he had always said that everyone tasted different) was really good to him. 


I clasped my fingers in his hair. I didn’t want this to stop. Not because of what he was doing. It just we were connected in a way that nothing else could do for us. Almost like my heart was beating for the both of us. 


Then, there was pain


I must’ve flinched or something, because the feeling of being pulled out of myself stopped. Baz slowly, achingly pulled his fangs from me, although his lips were still upon me. I gave a small whine as he licked at the wound, kissed it, sucked at it, until it had no more to give.


Baz rose up onto his knees and turned his head to the ceiling. He gave a moan and ran his hands down through his hair. His fingers trailed down his face to his neck, tracing all the lines on him that I liked to kiss. His cheekbones, his jaw. Right behind his ear. The hollow of his throat. When he turned his face to mine again, his gaze signified how satiated he was. It was almost an afterglow. Satisfied and full and dangerous .


Merlin, he was beautiful. 


I could only lay there. It felt like I was a bit drunk. I’d only had a sip or two of that wine (I’m not that big a fan of wine)(even if the duck did taste better with it) so I knew the feeling came from the bite. Baz leaned over me and traced his fingers down my face and to my throat. When they grazed the wound, I gave a small moan. 


His fingers were red when he sat up. Not dripping or wet. Just a smear.


He licked his fingers and closed his eyes, savoring the taste.


I cursed myself for not having the strength to kiss him down into the bed right then.



Simon was laid out before me, his movements lazy from having being drawn. His wound had closed, and all the blood had been cleaned up. I brought myself beside him and pulled up the blankets.


I pressed light kisses to his face and neck, but he was soon asleep. I knew the next morning I would need to get him some electrolytes, and perhaps something sugary. Maybe some of that cake.


I stayed awake as much as I could, just allowing myself to hear him breathe under me. I made sure to wait for his heartbeat to turn back to normal. I then fell asleep against his chest.


Happy birthday to me, indeed.


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