SERIOUSLY, ALWAYS YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL Chapter 13
And here we have it! An update! So what do you think about it now?
ADULTS ONLY!!!
Chapter THIRTEEN
BRIAN’S POV
I don’t know who this Russell character is, but he so completely threw Eric off his game, that the next thing I know we are zipping up and getting out, just when it was getting interesting. He holds my hand to guide me out of the club at such speed that I can barely keep up. Out through the black tunnel of death to the rickety ferry. Once we are onboard, he leans on the railing with both hands and stares out into the blackness. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I say, “You know, you owe me one.”
The look he gives me is chilling. Not sure how to read it. But he slams me up against the rail, opens up my jeans, pulls me out and gives me the best damn blow job in the history of fellatio. Afterwards, he stands up while I am still gasping, and runs the back of his hand over his mouth as he says nothing and stares out again at the banks of New Orleans. The ferry wheezes to a stop short of the dock and a member of the crew announces they have a small technical issue that will be repaired quickly.
“Fuck this,” Eric says, puts an arm around me and before I know what the fuck he is doing, he takes a long, impossible leap from the deck to the dock, a good ten feet or more, dragging me along like Lois Lane clinging to Superman. We land lightly and I grab his shirt in both fists and demand to know what the fuck that was. He shakes free of my grip and starts walking towards the city lights.
“Quit being such a scared sissy,” he responds and I stop walking and just stare at his retreating figure. It takes him a couple minutes to realize I’m no longer walking with him. He glances over his shoulder at me and returns in a vampire second to where I am still standing. “What the fuck?”
“Don’t ever call me a sissy.”
“Sissy.”
“You think I’m kidding?”
“What are you going to do, Brian? Punch me in the nose?”
“No. I’m going to get a cab to the airport and get the hell out of here.”
“Fine, go.”
“Fine, I’m going.” I pull my cell out of my pocket and he plucks it from my hands and says,
“Wait.”
“What?”
He pulls me over to a bench overlooking the Mississippi and we sit down side by side although neither of us speaks for a minute. Finally he says, “Russell killed my family. I was the only survivor. I wasn’t vampire at the time. I was a Viking. Over the centuries, I’ve been driven by one thing: revenge. But he’s older and thus stronger than I am and I have to pick my time carefully. I have to play the game as he is now the King of this area. But he knows how I feel and he never misses a chance to taunt me.”
“Why did he spare you?” I can’t even comprehend the experiences Eric has had.
“I have no idea.”
“I do.”
He gives me a glance. “How the hell would you know?”
“He’s attracted to you. Who wouldn’t be? I could see it when he looked at you.”
Eric winced. “I haven’t vomited in centuries, but I think I just came close.”
“Are you embarrassed that he caught you in a compromising position with a man?”
“Fuck that, Brian. In our world, the gender issue is non-existent. Very few of us never cross over from time to time. Just spending one minute in close proximity to Russell makes me feel the rage.”
“Come on,” I stand and offer him my hand. He rises and loops his arm through mine as we walk into the Quarter. We stop at the Café Du Monde in the French Market, because I want to try their chicory coffee and beignets. Eric watches me eat and drink. His mind is still somewhere else, probably in Sweden in the time of the Vikings, when his family perished. He drums his long fingers on the table top and then fixes his gaze on a couple of tourists, young women, drunk from the bars on Bourbon, hoping the coffee will make them feel better.
“I want to kill,” he says, almost to himself. “I want to feed.”
Those words feel like a knife’s blade on my skin. I know he’s a vampire, I know he lived long before Tru Blood was invented, and that a lot of people died so he could survive. But I never really let myself think about that. I cover his hand with mine. “It won’t make it go away.”
“No, but it will give me some momentary peace.”
I leave some money on the table and we walk through Jackson Square. I’m not afraid of becoming his stress reliever, at least not in the form of a meal, but I do want to distract him. I’m sure the bars have Tru Blood, and I lead him into the first one we pass. The bouncer at the door puts a hand on Eric’s chest. “You can’t come in here, bloodsucker. See that sign?” He cranks a thumb towards a hand-lettered sign that reads, “NO VAMPIRES”. Eric bends the man’s hand back until he winces, peeling it off of his chest.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Hit the road, you and your fangbanger friend. Plenty of bars in the Quarter cater to your kind. But not this one.”
Eric bares his fangs and takes the man by the throat, lifting him off his feet and slamming his two hundred sixty pounds of muscle against the wall, his feet dancing in the air and his fists falling with no effect on Eric’s arms. “You fucking redneck mindless breather. You have to go home sometime after closing. I advise you to look over your shoulder. But it won’t matter. You’ll never even see what’s coming.”
Terror shines in the man’s eyes and I put a hand on Eric’s back and say, “Let’s go.”
He lets him fall and we walk away. The next bar we pass is happy for our business and we sit in a back booth drinking whiskey, for me, and Tru Blood for him and neither of us are watching the stripper work the pole. I glance at him. “I get it.”
“Get what?”
“You called him a breather, we call them breeders. We get hit with discrimination every day because we’re gay. Hatred, disgust, stereotyping. I’ve dealt with it all of my life. It gets old.”
He looks over at me and nods. For the first time since Russell interrupted our evening, I feel him relax slightly. He leans over to kiss me. Even though this isn’t a gay venue, no one seems to notice or care. “I like you, Brian.”
“I like you, too.”
“I don’t like many people, human or vampire.”
“Me neither.”
“You have strength, beauty, brains, you’d be a good companion over these lonely decades. Have you ever considered what it would be like to always be young, always be beautiful?”
“Just every day of my life.”
“I could make that possible.”
“You said you didn’t want any more progeny.”
He sighs and leans back. “Right. I don’t. Forgive a wistful moment.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?”
“Changing from one to the other?”
“No. It’s very erotic. You slip away from one world and open your eyes in another. What is difficult is what comes later. Shunning the sun. Losing the last bit of food left in your body. Killing, feeding, but mostly the boredom. Managing the boredom.”
“Why did you leave your maker?”
“At some point we all leave. The time differs for each of us. But you have to make your own way. Someday Pam will leave. But she’s still a very young vampire, so she has much to learn.”
I nod. I reach under the table to stroke his long, muscular thigh. I reach upward and cup the bulge at his fly. I want him. I always want him. We kiss again and Eric’s fangs scrape gently against my tongue as his fang boner comes into being.
“Let’s go,” he says and pays the tab as we leave the bar with his arm around my shoulders.
ERIC’S POV
For the first time ever I am seriously thinking I have found someone I would like to make into a companion. I never wanted to turn Pam. She forced it by slicing her wrists and leaving me the choice of watching her die or turning her. So I turned her. And I love her as a maker loves his child. But it’s different with Brian. I like his spirit and his bravery. We are simpatico on many levels.
I can feel my heart beating in his veins, as maker, and that frightens me. And excites me. I should get far away from him, remove the temptation, but no. Not yet. I have to be careful. I can’t let this weakness overcome my better judgment. I can’t let my sexual attraction to him cloud my emotions.
He’s just a distraction, nothing more. I pull him into the nearest alley. Up against the damp bricks, I run my hands over his body as we kiss. His heat defies my cool. I fill my hands with him. I fill my mouth with his tongue. I feel the desire rip through me. I want him now. But do I want him always? I push that thought aside as I give in to the lust and enjoy him for what he is today.
ADULTS ONLY!!!
Chapter THIRTEEN
BRIAN’S POV
I don’t know who this Russell character is, but he so completely threw Eric off his game, that the next thing I know we are zipping up and getting out, just when it was getting interesting. He holds my hand to guide me out of the club at such speed that I can barely keep up. Out through the black tunnel of death to the rickety ferry. Once we are onboard, he leans on the railing with both hands and stares out into the blackness. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I say, “You know, you owe me one.”
The look he gives me is chilling. Not sure how to read it. But he slams me up against the rail, opens up my jeans, pulls me out and gives me the best damn blow job in the history of fellatio. Afterwards, he stands up while I am still gasping, and runs the back of his hand over his mouth as he says nothing and stares out again at the banks of New Orleans. The ferry wheezes to a stop short of the dock and a member of the crew announces they have a small technical issue that will be repaired quickly.
“Fuck this,” Eric says, puts an arm around me and before I know what the fuck he is doing, he takes a long, impossible leap from the deck to the dock, a good ten feet or more, dragging me along like Lois Lane clinging to Superman. We land lightly and I grab his shirt in both fists and demand to know what the fuck that was. He shakes free of my grip and starts walking towards the city lights.
“Quit being such a scared sissy,” he responds and I stop walking and just stare at his retreating figure. It takes him a couple minutes to realize I’m no longer walking with him. He glances over his shoulder at me and returns in a vampire second to where I am still standing. “What the fuck?”
“Don’t ever call me a sissy.”
“Sissy.”
“You think I’m kidding?”
“What are you going to do, Brian? Punch me in the nose?”
“No. I’m going to get a cab to the airport and get the hell out of here.”
“Fine, go.”
“Fine, I’m going.” I pull my cell out of my pocket and he plucks it from my hands and says,
“Wait.”
“What?”
He pulls me over to a bench overlooking the Mississippi and we sit down side by side although neither of us speaks for a minute. Finally he says, “Russell killed my family. I was the only survivor. I wasn’t vampire at the time. I was a Viking. Over the centuries, I’ve been driven by one thing: revenge. But he’s older and thus stronger than I am and I have to pick my time carefully. I have to play the game as he is now the King of this area. But he knows how I feel and he never misses a chance to taunt me.”
“Why did he spare you?” I can’t even comprehend the experiences Eric has had.
“I have no idea.”
“I do.”
He gives me a glance. “How the hell would you know?”
“He’s attracted to you. Who wouldn’t be? I could see it when he looked at you.”
Eric winced. “I haven’t vomited in centuries, but I think I just came close.”
“Are you embarrassed that he caught you in a compromising position with a man?”
“Fuck that, Brian. In our world, the gender issue is non-existent. Very few of us never cross over from time to time. Just spending one minute in close proximity to Russell makes me feel the rage.”
“Come on,” I stand and offer him my hand. He rises and loops his arm through mine as we walk into the Quarter. We stop at the Café Du Monde in the French Market, because I want to try their chicory coffee and beignets. Eric watches me eat and drink. His mind is still somewhere else, probably in Sweden in the time of the Vikings, when his family perished. He drums his long fingers on the table top and then fixes his gaze on a couple of tourists, young women, drunk from the bars on Bourbon, hoping the coffee will make them feel better.
“I want to kill,” he says, almost to himself. “I want to feed.”
Those words feel like a knife’s blade on my skin. I know he’s a vampire, I know he lived long before Tru Blood was invented, and that a lot of people died so he could survive. But I never really let myself think about that. I cover his hand with mine. “It won’t make it go away.”
“No, but it will give me some momentary peace.”
I leave some money on the table and we walk through Jackson Square. I’m not afraid of becoming his stress reliever, at least not in the form of a meal, but I do want to distract him. I’m sure the bars have Tru Blood, and I lead him into the first one we pass. The bouncer at the door puts a hand on Eric’s chest. “You can’t come in here, bloodsucker. See that sign?” He cranks a thumb towards a hand-lettered sign that reads, “NO VAMPIRES”. Eric bends the man’s hand back until he winces, peeling it off of his chest.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Hit the road, you and your fangbanger friend. Plenty of bars in the Quarter cater to your kind. But not this one.”
Eric bares his fangs and takes the man by the throat, lifting him off his feet and slamming his two hundred sixty pounds of muscle against the wall, his feet dancing in the air and his fists falling with no effect on Eric’s arms. “You fucking redneck mindless breather. You have to go home sometime after closing. I advise you to look over your shoulder. But it won’t matter. You’ll never even see what’s coming.”
Terror shines in the man’s eyes and I put a hand on Eric’s back and say, “Let’s go.”
He lets him fall and we walk away. The next bar we pass is happy for our business and we sit in a back booth drinking whiskey, for me, and Tru Blood for him and neither of us are watching the stripper work the pole. I glance at him. “I get it.”
“Get what?”
“You called him a breather, we call them breeders. We get hit with discrimination every day because we’re gay. Hatred, disgust, stereotyping. I’ve dealt with it all of my life. It gets old.”
He looks over at me and nods. For the first time since Russell interrupted our evening, I feel him relax slightly. He leans over to kiss me. Even though this isn’t a gay venue, no one seems to notice or care. “I like you, Brian.”
“I like you, too.”
“I don’t like many people, human or vampire.”
“Me neither.”
“You have strength, beauty, brains, you’d be a good companion over these lonely decades. Have you ever considered what it would be like to always be young, always be beautiful?”
“Just every day of my life.”
“I could make that possible.”
“You said you didn’t want any more progeny.”
He sighs and leans back. “Right. I don’t. Forgive a wistful moment.”
“Does it hurt?”
“Does what hurt?”
“Changing from one to the other?”
“No. It’s very erotic. You slip away from one world and open your eyes in another. What is difficult is what comes later. Shunning the sun. Losing the last bit of food left in your body. Killing, feeding, but mostly the boredom. Managing the boredom.”
“Why did you leave your maker?”
“At some point we all leave. The time differs for each of us. But you have to make your own way. Someday Pam will leave. But she’s still a very young vampire, so she has much to learn.”
I nod. I reach under the table to stroke his long, muscular thigh. I reach upward and cup the bulge at his fly. I want him. I always want him. We kiss again and Eric’s fangs scrape gently against my tongue as his fang boner comes into being.
“Let’s go,” he says and pays the tab as we leave the bar with his arm around my shoulders.
ERIC’S POV
For the first time ever I am seriously thinking I have found someone I would like to make into a companion. I never wanted to turn Pam. She forced it by slicing her wrists and leaving me the choice of watching her die or turning her. So I turned her. And I love her as a maker loves his child. But it’s different with Brian. I like his spirit and his bravery. We are simpatico on many levels.
I can feel my heart beating in his veins, as maker, and that frightens me. And excites me. I should get far away from him, remove the temptation, but no. Not yet. I have to be careful. I can’t let this weakness overcome my better judgment. I can’t let my sexual attraction to him cloud my emotions.
He’s just a distraction, nothing more. I pull him into the nearest alley. Up against the damp bricks, I run my hands over his body as we kiss. His heat defies my cool. I fill my hands with him. I fill my mouth with his tongue. I feel the desire rip through me. I want him now. But do I want him always? I push that thought aside as I give in to the lust and enjoy him for what he is today.