Why don't you just drop dead? (part two) - Bandom (Panic!), Brendon/Spencer.

[cho_malfoy]

part one | master post | part three

And living's just a waste of death

The first night he was in LA, Spencer ran smack into the middle of a fight.

Okay, it wasn't quite that bad. He turned a corner, grocery bags in his hands, and a group of people blocked the sidewalk ahead. Spencer knew enough to know not to get in their way, so he shrank back against the building and waited. He'd cross the street, but he really didn't want to risk getting his ass kicked at all when he just spent forty bucks on groceries, thanks.

But it was definitely a fight. It didn't look like it at first, but guys started flying up the street and a woman ran away, screaming. One guy grabbed another by the throat, even. They weren't fucking around.

Spencer dropped his bags on the ground and pulled out his phone. He should've done it from the beginning.

By the time he got in touch with the cops and figured out where in the hell he was, the fight was mostly over, and the main fighter - a short guy with bangs in his face - kicked a couple of the guys on the ground before running off. Spencer hung around a couple more minutes, even though the ice cream was melting, but he never heard sirens. Oh well. The cops had his information; they could follow up if they needed.

Still. It was a hell of an omen.

-

Which was why he wasn't surprised when Ryan started disappearing.

The first night it happened, Ryan had stumbled in at dawn, eyes bleary and puffy. When Spencer asked - calmly, he thought, much more calmly than he felt - where Ryan had been, he'd said, "Getting laid, unlike some people." And he'd tightened his scarves around him and stumbled in his room.

Maybe he was getting laid. But Ryan had left his phone at home, and his entire address book was empty. It's not like he got the number of every person he slept with, or even most of them. But he didn't even have his work number programmed in. He didn't have Spencer's number. And then he was leaving his phone around.

The second night it happened, Ryan didn't come home. During Spencer's lunch the next day, he went by the bookstore where Ryan worked, and nothing. At sunset, when Ryan turned up again, Spencer didn't bother asking about anything. He stood in front of Ryan and said, "Let me help."

Ryan had shoved him away - not hard, but he got the idea across - and gone in his room.

Back in Vegas, Spencer's therapist had told him, in no uncertain terms, that Ryan's life was his life, and Spencer could only make him do things Ryan wanted to do. They'd talked about Ryan a lot. Maybe that was why Spencer had been so glad to move out-of-state with him. At least, this way, he could deal with the reality instead of talking about it all the time.

-

The fifth time Ryan didn't come home, Spencer finally found him in a random bar the next night.

He didn't want to go in. He was too young, and he didn't have a fake ID like certain jerks he'd moved to LA with, but that wasn't really the problem: most places wouldn't kick out someone who didn't try to buy a drink and left right away. No, what Spencer really had a problem with was why Ryan was in a bar in the first place.

When Spencer pushed through the crowd and found Ryan slumped at the counter, he reeked of beer. And he looked like a middle schooler. What bartender would give him alcohol?

"Damn it," he muttered. He shook Ryan's shoulder.

Ryan picked up his head. "Spence? Why're you here?"

Spencer pinched the bridge of his nose and took a breath. "Come on. You've got work in the morning."

Ryan shoved away Spencer's hand and nearly overbalanced off his stool. He grabbed the bar just in time. "No, I don't."

"Ryan-"

"Hey, it's the pretty one!"

A couple of guys with shaved heads and mohawks sauntered up, clapping Ryan on the back like they knew him. Spencer had never seen them before, and considering how often he went out after him, he figured Ryan didn't either.

But Ryan nodded at them. "You guys still going to the party?"

They exchanged looks and grinned. "Hell yeah! Let's get out of here!"

Ryan stepped off the stool.

"Ryan," Spencer said again. It didn't take sobriety to see this was a very bad idea.

But Ryan waved him away and followed the strangers through the crowd and out the door.

For a second, Spencer wondered if it was worth it. Chasing him down didn't seem to do any good. Maybe, if he backed off for a while, Ryan could get his shit together.

Maybe, maybe.

Spencer slipped through the crowd and out the door.

Thinking had let Ryan get out of sight. He looked toward the cars; none of them were running, and no one was pulling away, so Ryan was hoofing it. It meant Spencer had a chance to catch up. He looked at the two alleys nearby and wondered which to take.

And then he heard Ryan yell. "Get your hands off me!"

Spencer ran.

Ryan was pinned to the wall in the alley to his left, struggling against the two guys who'd taken him out of the bar. Spencer looked around for some kind of weapon. All he found was a broken wooden pallet next to an empty Dumpster, but it was better than nothing. He grabbed it.

"Hey!" he yelled.

The guys turned toward him. One of them hissed and showed off sharp canines. Great. He was dealing with gothy vampire wannabes on top of everything else.

He broke off a piece of the pallet. He could play this game. "Back off."

They let go of Ryan and let him fall to the ground. "Spencer?" he asked, like he wasn't sure what was going on.

"Run," Spencer said.

The fake vampires were closing in. They were taller than Spencer, and bulkier. Spencer wasn't a fighter, but he could buy Ryan time, at least.

"Run!"

As Ryan scrambled to his feet and stumbled away, the men rushed Spencer. Spencer ducked and managed to avoid them once, but before he could straighten, one of them grabbed Spencer in a headlock, and the other knocked the wood out of his hand.

"This one'll be better," the one holding Spencer said as Spencer choked and grabbed at the arms around his throat. "Less trashy."

The other one grabbed one of Spencer's arms and twisted it painfully. He tried to yell, but without air in his lungs, it came out as a strangled gasp.

And then the asshole bit him. If he lived, he was going to have to get a tetanus shot. Or a rabies shot. Maybe both.

The world swirled around him and started to go dark. The arms were gone from his throat, but something still pinched, like the asshole kept biting him. He didn't stop when Spencer tried to hit him with his hand. Spencer could only get in a couple hits, anyway; it felt like his arm was moving through water.

Just when he was about to pass out, the pinching disappeared, and he hit the ground hard.

Someone slapped his face. "Hey. Can you hear me?"

Spencer groaned.

"Fuck," the man said.

Spencer could kind of see someone - probably the guy who was talking - roll up a sleeve in front of his face. He felt something press to his mouth, metallic and sticky. He tried to push away, but an arm lifted his head and held him firm.

"Just drink. You'll feel better."

Spencer was having a hard time breathing, much less doing anything else. But the stickiness was in his mouth, and he swallowed reflexively.

Warmth flooded his body, followed by a rush of cold. He gasped around what was on his mouth, jagged and rough, and he convulsed.

"You can do it. Just a little bit more."

Spencer wasn't sure if he did or not. But he did let his growing exhaustion overtake him. It was just easier.

-

Spencer woke up in a bed.

It wasn't familiar. Not like he knew a lot of beds in Los Angeles - there was his, and Ryan's, and that was pretty much it - but this was way bigger than his twin, and the sheets smelled stale. He was cold, but the sheets were just too rank to deal with, so he pushed them away.

"You awake?"

The voice was familiar, but Spencer couldn't figure out how. He opened his eyes.

He was in a dark room with heavy curtains over the windows, even though the lack of light from behind them meant it was night. The furniture - a dresser with a circular mirror over it, the bed he was lying in, a night stand with curved legs - all looked old and worn, but with hints of wealth to them. And he thought he smelled cobwebs. Which was weird, because he couldn't remember smelling cobwebs in his life, but there was something in the air that his brain interpreted as "cobwebs".

And there was a chair with a man in it. He looked maybe Spencer's age, with pale skin and longish hair. He was kind of pretty, if not quite as pretty as Ryan: he rocked the thin and androgynous look, particularly with the nicely tailored suit he was wearing. He even had gloves on, and a bowler in his hand.

"I'm awake," Spencer said as he rubbed his neck. "Do I know you from somewhere?"

"We just met. Sorry. Um, my name's Brendon?" He gave a little wave.

The alley. Right. "What about Ryan?"

"Ryan?"

"My friend." He made a useless gesture with his hand. "The assholes who jumped me jumped him first."

Brendon smiled. "That was gutsy."

"Stupid, more like."

"No, it's really cool that you'd do that for a friend." Brendon smiled. "Or anyone. You probably wouldn't walk away from anyone getting attacked, would you?"

Spencer shrugged. "I hope not. But who knows?"

"Who knows," Brendon repeated, like it was something wise. "I think I saw him running off. He should be okay, if he went home right away."

God. Spencer hoped he did. Obviously, he wasn't in much of a place to check. "Awesome."

Brendon nodded. Then he cleared his throat. "So I kind of have to tell you something."

"Don't you want to know my name?"

"Oh." Brendon blinked. "Yeah, totally."

"Spencer Smith."

Brendon grinned until he showed teeth. With pointy canines. "Wow, that's a great name. Literary."

Spencer bit his lip. He wasn't going to make fun of the guy who saved his life. Even if he dressed like he wanted to hang out with Oscar Wilde and had fake vampire fangs. "Thanks, I guess."

"You're staring at my mouth."

Spencer winced. "Sorry."

"No, it's what I have to tell you." Brendon put his hat in his lap and leaned forward seriously. "I made you into a vampire."

Okay, that deserved an eye roll. He didn't even feel guilty about doing it. "Really."

"I did! Those two Lost Boys sucked your blood, and you were going to die from blood loss, and I was supposed to be making more vampires anyway, so I kind of...did it."

Great. Next thing Spencer knew, he'd be trying to feed him blood or something. Maybe fruit punch passed off as blood. He was kind of thirsty, but yeah. No way was he going to take anything from this psycho.

"You don't believe me."

Well, if he was going to bring it up. "No. I really don't."

"That's okay. I like showing off." Brendon stood, and put his hat and gloves on the seat. "Ready?"

Spencer should be moving. Leaving. Calling Ryan. Something. But he ached all over, so he figured a quick distraction while he figured out how to get away wouldn't be a bad thing. Or, at least, not any worse than what he'd already had. "Blow me away."

Brendon appeared on the other side of the room. And the room was big, bigger than Ryan and Spencer's whole apartment.

"How-"

Brendon stood at the foot of the bed a heartbeat later. And then he bounced in the air off the walls. It wasn't like a parkour thing; he was up in the air a good thirty seconds, and barely balancing on anything, before he touched down as lightly as he would if he was walking around.

At Spencer's stunned look, he gave a little bow. "Wasn't that cool?"

"I. Uh." Spencer gripped the blanket hard. He'd been dosed. It was the only explanation. "Did you give me something while I was asleep?"

"Check your mouth."

Spencer touched his teeth. His canines were way long, and sharp. "Doesn't prove anything."

Brendon blinked. "Huh."

"Can I just...go? To a hospital, or something?"

"Probably not a good idea until you eat," Brendon said. "But we should get out of here."

There was a knock at the bedroom door. Spencer jumped, and in the blink of an eye, he was crouching. Huh. Hell of a drug, whatever this was.

"Yeah?" Brendon yelled.

The door creaked open, and a head stuck in. "Hey. Who's that?"

"Dinner." Brendon seemed pretty casual about it. "Something up, Jon?"

Jon stepped in the rest of the way. He was dressed the exact same way as Brendon. Which meant that Spencer was not only surrounded by creepers who thought they were vampires, but thought they were some kind of vampire cult. Great.

"Carden was just wondering if you'd been out for the night," Jon said.

"Obviously, yeah."

"Cool. I'll tell him." Jon blinked over at Spencer. "You turning him?"

"Maybe."

Jon waved. "Nice to meet you. I'll talk to you later if you're not dead."

Spencer raised a tentative hand back, and Jon slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

"Dinner?" Spencer asked Brendon.

Brendon shrugged. "If they know you're a vampire, they'll make you stay or they'll kill you."

"And you won't?"

Brendon stared at the wall behind the bed. "I think you should know what you're up against first." He blinked, and smiled. "Feel like making a deal?"

"I..." A deal with the vampire cultist. God. And he'd thought dealing with Ryan's shit was too much. "Okay?"

"We go out feeding, just you and me, and I tell you some things. Then you decide if you want to stick around or not."

"Stick around? Like..."

"Like you leave town and don't come back," Brendon said, smiling. "I won't stake you. Unless you try to kill me. Then we might have words."

"Oh." That seemed...oddly reasonable. No guarantee that Brendon would stick to it, of course, but if Spencer got out, he figured his chances of surviving were better. He liked surviving. "I guess that works."

"Great. Follow me."

Brendon went to the window and swept open the curtains. As a cloud of dust raised in the air, he unhooked the latch and pushed the window frame out. It brushed the top of what looked like a tree. He stepped outside.

"Whoa," Spencer said. "Brendon-"

But Brendon dropped out of sight.

Spencer pushed out of bed and ran over, patting his pocket. His phone was still there - why hadn't he thought of that earlier? - and he pulled it out, pressing a button to unlock it. He looked out the window.

Before Spencer could dial anything, Brendon waved up at him. From four stories down.

"Coast is clear!" he said. It sounded like he was talking normally, but Spencer could hear him perfectly well. "Come on!"

"I'll break my neck," Spencer whispered, more to himself than anything.

But Brendon laughed and shook his head. "At worst, I'll catch you, okay?"

Because that'd make a difference at four stories. Great. But Spencer didn't feel good about sneaking out the normal way when there was at least one more guy to deal with, and Brendon had saved him from the other vampire cultists or whatever, so.

He squeezed his eyes shut, clenched his jaw, and pushed out from the window.

And he didn't die. He didn't even break anything. Instead, when he opened his eyes, he was standing straight up and down, like he'd just walked out of a door.

"Good drugs," Spencer muttered.

Brendon clapped a hand on his shoulder.

-

Spencer had done his share of weird before. Being friends with Ryan had opened him to a line of experiences he'd never expected. But when they'd walked out of what looked like a forest around a mansion, and Spencer's knees had started shaking, he never would've guessed Brendon would pick him up. Like, hoist him up in his arms picking up.

He smacked at Brendon. "What the hell?"

"Sorry," he said. "But you won't be strong enough to keep up until you feed."

As Brendon ran down the street, the wind hit Spencer's face, and things felt a little clearer. And real. It shouldn't feel real, having a short fake vampire carry him and run at super speed. But it did.

They appeared in the same neighborhood as the bar, and even though Brendon stopped abruptly, he didn't rock or nearly throw Spencer forward.

"No fair defying the laws of physics," Spencer said, climbing out of his arms. His legs folded, and he grabbed for the wall.

"They drained you almost entirely." Brendon wrapped an arm around his waist and held him up. It made his skin itch. But it was better than face planting on concrete, so Spencer didn't say anything. "You'd have more energy if I could've replaced more. Sorry."

"Why do you keep apologizing?" Spencer asked as they walked forward. "It's not your fault."

"I thought you thought I drugged you. Or something."

Spencer thought so, too. But the way his nose was telling him just how many humans - no, people - had been on the street recently...that wasn't really a drug thing. He thought. Now he wished he had experimented more than smoking a bowl now and then; he'd know if he should believe this or not.

"Oh cool, here comes someone. Wait here." Brendon sat Spencer on a bench.

Spencer knew he shouldn't believe anything he was seeing. But as he watched Brendon walked up to a middle-aged man and stared him straight in the eyes, then watched as the man walked over with Brendon like they were just hanging out, that was it. Spencer was believing it. Brendon was making the man sit on the bench next to Spencer with his mind, and Spencer had fangs in his mouth, and so did Brendon, and he believed it.

"Wow," he said aloud.

Brendon grinned and bared his teeth. "The best part's coming."

He started to lean toward the man, but Spencer stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Wait. We won't...I mean, he won't die. Will he?"

Brendon blinked at him.

"Seriously? Fuck." Spencer shoved away. "I'm not killing a guy that looks like my dad."

"Then who? An old lady? A kid?"

"How about no one?"

Brendon laughed. "Dude, we're vampires. What did you think would happen?"

"I don't know," Spencer said. "Maybe I didn't think about it because I'm still not sure if I believe it?"

"This is how it works. You should have some control after a few days, but the first couple times? You'll drain him dry. And you'll want more." Brendon tipped the guy's face forward. "See? Give him a smell."

"Smell a stranger? Really?"

"Just try it."

Spencer rolled his eyes and did an exaggerated inhale. Then he paused. Wow. He was a second away from drooling all over the place.

It was only when his nose bumped the guy's cheek that Spencer shook his head and pushed back. "No," he said, his voice shaky. "I can't."

"You have to," Brendon said. His head was tilted, and he sounded a little sad. "Or you'll die."

"I'm not choosing me over him."

"But you don't even know him."

"So?" Spencer laughed a little and brushed his hands through his hair. "I guess I wouldn't walk away from a stranger."

Brendon's face dropped completely, and Spencer swallowed. It was like he'd kicked a puppy or something. But Brendon laid his gloved hand over Spencer's bared one, and he said, "Maybe. Maybe I could stop you?"

"From what?"

"From killing him. You drink a little while from this guy, then we find a couple more. How's that sound?"

"Like you've watched a lot of Buffy."

Brendon smiled again. "Maybe I have. I just didn't think it'd work here."

Spencer laughed. It sounded a little forced, but he did mean it. "I don't really want to die."

"I don't want you to die, either." Brendon rubbed his thumb over the back of Spencer's hand. "You seem like a nice guy."

"Uh. Thanks?"

Brendon squeezed Spencer's hand and let go. "No, it's a good thing. I don't see a lot of nice guys these days."

He bit into the man's neck, and the man didn't even twitch. After a second, Brendon drew back with a little gasp, licking his lips.

"Wow," he said. "That never gets old. You try."

Spencer leaned forward. The red drops on the man's neck were pretty fascinating, for some reason. "Try?"

Brendon didn't answer. It didn't exactly fill Spencer with confidence. He drew back.

But Brendon smiled again. "If anyone can do it, it's totally you. You've got balls."

"Because balls make a difference?" Spencer said with a snort.

"You put your friend's life before yours. You've got this."

Spencer felt a twist in his chest that had nothing to do with nerves. "If you say so."

He put a mouth to the wound Brendon had created and licked. He cringed a little - licking strangers wasn't his thing - but he figured it was the best way to test the waters.

And whoa. The blood. Maybe he was on drugs because holy shit, the world flared with colors and smells and even the air on his skin felt textured and the clothes on his body and the man's leg against his, and he needed more, needed to see the world flare even more and feel more a part of it and see just how far he could get this.

"That's enough, Spencer."

No. Nothing could ever be enough. He pulled back enough to hiss and bare his fangs, and then he dug in again, wanting to feel the man's heart slow down and feel his own speed up, feel the blood in his stomach and in his veins and everything in the world around him-

He was yanked away from the man by force, and he fell in the street. Spencer got to his feet, crouching, ready for a fight...

...but there was only Brendon, pressing fingers to the uninjured side of the man's neck. "I think he'll be okay," he said. "I've seen people walk away from worse. You with me?"

It took Spencer a few seconds to unclench his fists. "Wow. That was...wow."

"I know," Brendon said. He sighed. "It's lucky you're underfed, I think. I probably couldn't have managed otherwise."

Spencer looked at his hands. He could see the blood rushing through his skin almost like it was glass.

"Does it get easier?" he asked without looking up.

"Yeah," Brendon said. But he didn't sound particularly happy about it.

-

The second time, with a tattooed bald guy that looked like a bouncer or something, went a little easier. Spencer was ready for the rush, and it didn't take over quite as much. Probably because Brendon talked to him through it.

"I'm part of the Dandies, right? We're a vampire clique-gang...thing."

Spencer pulled back to talk. Breaks were good. "Vampires have gangs? Is your leader Kiefer Sutherland?"

"Nah. Although that's why the Lost Boys are called that, I think. Doubt they know Peter Pan, but they love that movie." He shook his head. "Not important. The thing is, if you're a vampire in this town, you're probably part of one of them. It's pretty ugly."

"Uglier than people getting jumped in an alley?"

"That's pretty standard, actually."

Spencer drank a couple more mouthfuls before asking, "What cliques are there?"

"There's three. You met some of the Lost Boys, and of course the Dandies, and then there's the Billionaires. They mostly keep to themselves, but they hate the Lost Boys, so I don't think that'll last." Brendon patted him on the back. "I think this guy's done. Ready to move on?"

By the time Spencer was drinking from some frat kid, he was starting to feel pretty good about things. Maybe it was the blood making everything clear, but he could handle this. It sucked - har har - but yeah.

Of course, that's when his phone buzzed. Spencer jumped like something bit him.

Brendon caught the dazed frat guy before he fell to the ground. "What? What's wrong?"

Spencer grabbed his phone out of his pocket. Ryan. Of course. And wow, if the date was right, it had been three days since the alley. Which is probably why his phone said it had nineteen calls.

The phone stopped buzzing before Spencer could press anything.

"It was my friend," Spencer said. He looked at Brendon. "Do you...do you think I could go see him?"

"I don't know. What do you think?"

"You said I could choose after I fed."

Brendon nodded. "Yep."

So Brendon was right about the vampire thing. And he was still letting Spencer make his own choices. But he was obviously a murderer; the thought of not killing the humans - wow, that was a way to think of people - he fed on hadn't even occurred to him. That was a pretty big check in the get-the-hell-away category.

But.

"I don't know everything about this yet," Spencer said. His voice was half-questioning, and Brendon shook his head. "So. I should probably hang around at least long enough to get more details, shouldn't I?"

"Totally."

"But I want to talk to Ryan. And then we can do whatever."

"I don't..." Brendon bit his lip. "You won't be disappointed if this doesn't go well. Will you?"

Spencer laughed, even as the thought hurt. "Trust me. I'm used to disappointment with Ryan."

-

But when the front door of their apartment opened, Ryan practically tackled him.

"Ow," Spencer said. He might be a vampire, but Ryan was still bony. "Nice to see you, too."

"That's all you've got?" Ryan drew back. His eyes were puffy and red, and this time, it looked like he'd been crying. Ryan. Jesus. "I've been calling you."

"I know."

Ryan looked over at Brendon. "So what happened?"

"Oh. This is Brendon." Brendon grinned and waved. Points for him; he figured out not to hug him or shake his hand on his own. "He saved me from...well, you know."

That earned Brendon a nod of the head. Then Ryan said, "Well, let's not do this in the hall, I guess."

He stepped back inside.

"Do we need invitations to get in places?" Spencer asked. He liked horror movies as much as the next guy, but movies were movies.

Brendon frowned. "You know, I've never tried to find out?"

"How long have you been a vampire?"

"Four months. I'm still learning."

Great. Spencer took a breath and stepped forward. He pressed the door. It creaked, and nothing exciting happened.

"Okay," he said, and stepped through. He didn't start bleeding from the pores. Awesome.

When he turned, Brendon looked nervously around, but he squeezed his eyes shut and jumped inside. He also lacked in pore bleeding.

"Well," Brendon said, closing the door behind him. "Good to know."

Spencer rounded the corner into the living room. It was the same place it always was - a little cramped, a little cluttered, mostly okay - but he could see extra texture in the wallpaper, heard extra noises in the way his feet scuffled on the carpet, smelled pot and beer on Ryan. Old pot and beer. Maybe that was a good sign.

Ryan was sitting on the couch, staring up at Spencer through wide eyes.

"I'm not sticking around," Spencer said finally. On the way over, he'd decided to go vague. Ryan wouldn't take it, but whatever, Ryan was the master of holding things close to the chest. "I'll be staying with Brendon for a couple days. And maybe longer, but I'll let you know."

"Oh." Ryan stared at the ground.

Spencer crouched in front of him. Okay, bad idea; he smelled good. Really good. But not as good as the others. And the thought of biting Ryan was...well, not a particularly good one.

"This isn't your fault," he said. "But it's a good idea if we get some space."

"You'll still call me."

It wasn't a question, but Spencer nodded. "And text."

"Good." Ryan looked Spencer directly in the eyes. Spencer resisted the urge to flinch. If he was going to see Spencer was different, better that he do it now. "What happened?"

Vague. "I can't tell you. Not right now."

Ryan's lower lip trembled, just for a second. "They did something to you?"

Spencer didn't know what to say. Luckily, Brendon breaking something behind him saved him the need to.

"Shit," Brendon said. He picked up the pieces of the vase that had held Ryan's perpetually dying plant. Oh well, maybe it'd give up the ghost once and for all. "Sorry."

Spencer snorted and got to his feet. "Don't worry. I've bumped that thing more times than I can count."

He picked up the plant and as much of the soil as he could and took it into the kitchen. Tossing it in the garbage and wiping the dirt from his hands was oddly cathartic. Like, he didn't have to be careful with it. Yeah.

When he walked back to the living room, Brendon was saying something in a low voice.

"-this number and ask for Gabe Saporta." He handed Ryan a piece of paper. "And tell him what you saw. He'll explain it all. Just...don't mention my name."

Ryan gave Brendon his best expressionless face, but he took the paper and tucked it in his pocket.

"So yeah," Spencer said. "Call me if you need anything. I'll be busy, but I'll call you back."

Ryan looked from Spencer to Brendon and back, but he finally nodded.

Spencer waited until they were out in the hall before asking Brendon, "What'd you give him?"

"A choice." When Spencer's eyes grew big, Brendon waved his hands. "Not like that. I just. I knew Gabe before, and he does stuff with vampires sometimes. He's human. He'll know what to say."

"Oh." That was...well. Spencer couldn't be around Ryan for a little while, so it was good that Ryan could maybe call someone else. If Ryan even left the apartment.

Whatever. Damage was done, and really, it was for the best. Ryan didn't need one vampire in his life, and if Spencer didn't leave town, it was going to be a hell of a lot more than that. Spencer squared his shoulders.

"So," he said. "What next?"

-

Dawn, apparently.

"We burn in the sunlight?"

Brendon nodded. "I've never seen anyone do it, but it's not something I'm ready to risk."

Spencer eyed the coffin dubiously. "And we have to share one."

"Well..." Brendon shifted his weight from foot to foot. "I could only sneak one out, or everyone would know I've got someone here. The curtains might be enough."

"But you don't know that."

"No."

Spencer sighed. "Then let's get in."

Brendon jumped in, light on his feet, and pushed against the far side. Spencer climbed in with a little more effort. "You'll have to tell me how you do that."

"Tomorrow, totally," Brendon said. "But I did it naturally, once I was turned. I might suck as a teacher."

"You're supposed to suck."

Brendon groaned. "Yeah, I've never heard that one before."

Spencer settled in. Since Brendon was shorter, he put his head against Spencer's shoulder, which was better than being pressed face-to-face. And really, the whole thing was way more comfortable than Spencer expected. When he was human - and okay, that thought was still a little weird - he would've freaked about lying with another man in a coffin. But considering everything else? He had this.

Until Brendon said the next part. "I have to close the top. You claustrophobic?"

"I guess I'll find out," Spencer said. If his laugh was shaky, Brendon didn't say anything.

Brendon reached up and pulled the open half down.

It wasn't too bad. The air was warm and comfortable, and Brendon's slow-but-present breath reminded him he wasn't alone. But it was dark. And close. And okay, maybe he did have a little thing with tight spaces.

"We pass out completely, right?" Spencer asked.

"One-hundred percent."

He squeezed his eyes shut, and that helped a little. He wasn't thinking about how small the coffin was, or how little room he had. No, what came to mind now was his job at the pizza place, and how he always opened the restaurant at ten sharp, right when the sunlight was streaming on the pavement and heat waves rose up from the road. The most he worried about before was how hot the locks were to the touch and if he remembered his sunglasses.

Yeah. So much for that job.

"Tell me something," he said. His teeth chattered.

"What do you want to hear?"

"Anything. How you got turned, maybe."

Brendon stopped breathing beside him. And actually, Spencer hadn't been breathing for a minute either, except to talk. That was vaguely cool. Or it would've been, in other circumstances.

"It was Bill," Brendon said. His voice was a little flat. "William Beckett. He's the leader of the Dandies. He wanted more numbers."

Great. Spencer was trapped and losing it in a place with the guy who'd saved his life, so to speak, and he'd just offended him. Nice going. "Sorry. I shouldn't...sorry."

"No, it's okay. I just don't talk about it much. No one around here cares much."

Spencer shifted until one of his hands was free, and then he reached for Brendon. Brendon took his hand, and they interlaced fingers.

"Thanks," Spencer said.

"For what?"

"For saving me."

Before Brendon could say anything, Spencer lost consciousness.

-

They left right away the next night.

"It's not a big deal," Brendon said as they landed outside. "Bill sends me out a lot without telling anyone, so he might notice, but no one else will."

That seemed vaguely like a big deal to Spencer, but he was starting to feel hungry. He figured he'd have time to grill Brendon later.

They went downtown - just on the edges, since the Lost Boys apparently had that territory locked up - and drank their fill before going out to the shore. Brendon insisted it was a great place for flying practice, and Spencer let him take the lead.

"Everyone has different standards," Brendon said, as Spencer tried to climb up a lamppost. He was nearly as crappy at is as he had been as a human. "The Lost Boys kill all their victims for the fun of it. The Billionaires like having humans as pets, or maybe friends, I'm not sure. And The Dandies..."

Spencer made it to the top of the light. He balanced on the top and wobbled. "How long should I wait?"

"Try counting to twenty."

Spencer managed to make it to twelve before toppling over. But he landed somewhat evenly on his feet.

"That was way better than last time," Brendon said, grinning "Try again?"

"Sure." Spencer started back up. "What about The Dandies?"

Brendon sighed. "Bill wants chaos. Controlled chaos, sure, but he has a hard-on for the fear aspect of it."

"Peachy," Spencer said as he bounced up. It was getting a little easier, now that he was starting to feel out the way the power hung in the air. "Why do you hang around him?"

"He'll hunt me down if I leave." Brendon snorted quietly. "I know too much, I guess."

"That sucks."

"It was my choice. Mostly."

Spencer hovered back to the ground. "What do you mean?"

Brendon took off his bowler and ran it around in his hands. "He pretty much said he'd kill me if I didn't join up."

"Yikes."

"But I almost left, after the first couple weeks."

Spencer leaned against the light post. "Why didn't you?"

"You haven't been around the others, so you don't know." Brendon scratched the top of his head. "It has to be at least six or seven of them. But they have this...mental chatter thing. It's a little hard to throw off."

"Like what, the Borg?"

"Yeah!" Brendon laughed. "Only they're space zombies. No thinking. Vampires can get out of it, but if you're close together, or there's a lot in a small area, forget it."

"Huh." Spencer jumped back up to the light. Yeah. He totally had the hang of it now. "So what, you were stuck in Killer Vampire Mode?"

Brendon didn't answer. Spencer looked down. "Brendon?"

"Shit," Brendon said. "Quick. Go hide by the bathroom."

"But-"

"Now!"

The bathroom was close. Spencer managed to jump from the light to the roof, and he even managed not to fall off. It was pretty badass. Brendon, with his feet sinking in the sand, couldn't run fast enough. Not before three humans spotted him.

"Stop right there, Dandy!"

Whoa. They weren't just humans; they were armed humans. Spencer figured there had to be hunters - it was a vampire movie standard, really - but he hadn't figured that keeping weapons trained on Brendon would piss Spencer off. Or that getting pissed would make him want to tear into their flesh and drain them dry. Spencer dug his fingers into the wood and took a few breaths until it eased off.

Brendon stood still with his hands over his head. His back was to the hunters. "I won't hurt you."

"Brendon?"

Spencer could see Brendon wince. His eyes flicked up to Spencer, and he mouthed, "Stay there." Spencer nodded.

Brendon turned around, and right away, all the hunters lowered their weapons.

"You're not dead," one of the hunters said. He was holding a crossbow. "We figured...after all this time..."

"Shit," another hunter said. His labret caught the light. "Pete!"

Something whizzed past Spencer, and he ducked as low as he could. Luckily, the blur either ignored or didn't see him. Unluckily, it landed right on Brendon, shoving him face down in the sand. The three hunters lunged forward.

"Don't!" the third hunter said. "Pete, it's Brendon!"

The thing jumped off. Only it wasn't a thing, if the way he arched and landed lightly was any indication. It was another vampire. Hunters working with a vampire, and they all knew Brendon.

Whoa.

The vampire - Pete - scowled. "You're dressed like them? Why?"

"I don't know," Brendon said with a hiss. Spencer hadn't known Brendon long, but this was the first time he'd sounded even remotely pissed. "What happened to getting me out? Huh?"

Pete jerked away like Brendon hit him. "They said you were dead."

"Nice. Trust the lying vampires who turned you."

"What the fuck are you doing then, huh?" Pete got in Brendon's face. "Killing?"

"So what if I am?"

The humans, almost in unison, clutched their weapons tighter. But they didn't lift them. Huh.

"Let me tell you a little story," Brendon said. "About the night you got rescued. They were trying to get me to drink, and I didn't want to. And then some humans raided the place and busted you out. They shoved me in a closet, and I fell asleep with a bleeding jogger in my arms. What do you think happened after that?"

Everyone fell silent for a moment. All Spencer could hear was the crashing tide and the wind, which was actually a good thing; it meant there weren't any vampires or humans in the area. Probably. Brendon had said he would know, but he didn't trust his new senses yet.

"I...I didn't..." Pete said.

"Save it," Brendon said. "Kill me if you're going to. That's what you do, right?"

Pete shook his head. "I want Beckett. Or any vampire that's killing."

Brendon spread his arms. "I've killed. Take your best shot."

The humans didn't move. They all looked at Pete, but not like they were waiting for him to give an order. They looked kind of pissed at him, really.

Finally, Pete said, "I've been making do without blood. We can fix this."

"It's not that simple," Brendon said.

"Why not?"

Brendon didn't answer.

The hunter with the crossbow stepped forward and took off his hat. "You won't come back with us?"

Brendon shook his head. The hunter took off his hat and nodded, like he'd expected the answer, and put a hand on Brendon's shoulder. Brendon didn't move to take it off.

"If you change your mind, you know where we are," the hunter said.

"And you know where I am." Brendon crossed his arms.

Everyone stood still, waiting for the other to move. Finally, Pete slumped off, half-gliding over the sand. Two of the humans followed, but the one with the labret piercing carefully ruffled Brendon's hair and said, "I'm glad you're not dead."

Brendon didn't say anything, but he nodded once, and the third ran off.

When they were gone, Spencer jumped to the ground. He only made a little noise, but Brendon turned toward him with big eyes.

"And what about you?" he asked.

Spencer blinked. "Me?"

"You heard me. I've killed."

"You made that pretty clear at the beginning," Spencer said. "And I would've killed my first if you hadn't been there."

"What if I told you I was helping Bill?"

Spencer considered it for a minute. Then he said, "You're friends with vampire hunters. So I'd think you've got plans, or something."

Brendon gave a small, vulnerable smile. He looked so young. For the first time, whoever this Bill asshole was? Spencer wanted him dead. "Or maybe I was just too scared to leave."

"If that's true," Spencer said, hooking his arm around Brendon's shoulder, "you've got someone with balls to help you out."

Brendon's smile grew until it nearly split his face. And then he was lunging forward and kissing Spencer.

For a few days with a lot of wow moments, this had to top the list. It wasn't like kissing as a human, partially because their fangs scraped each others' lips, partially because Spencer's senses flared like they did when he was drinking blood. Judging by the groan from Brendon, it wasn't one-sided.

But Brendon pulled off. "Sorry, I...sorry."

"No," Spencer said. "That was. I mean. Don't be sorry. I liked it."

Brendon pulled off his bowler. His hair stuck up on top. "What's your policy on hooking up with vampires?"

"I don't know." Spencer smiled. "What's your policy on hooking up with guys you don't really know?"

"You know, that actually got me kicked out of my parents' house? I swore it off after that." His tone was light, but judging the slightly nervous look he gave Spencer, he wasn't making it up.

Spencer linked his fingers with Brendon's. "No time like the present to pick it up again, huh?"

Brendon squeezed his hand.

-

Sex as a vampire was pretty damn spectacular.

A lot of it was the powers. Spencer couldn't deny it. They ran back to the mansion hand-in-hand, and they jumped into an empty bed all hovering-style. But what really worked was when Brendon nibbled at Spencer's lower lip until it bled. It turned out vampire blood was some kind of aphrodisiac, so they were both hard instantly.

"Did you know?" Spencer asked.

Brendon nodded. He'd be breathing hard even if he was human. "The guys said something about it. They're always fucking each other."

They ruled out blowjobs right away - even Brendon, who'd been a vampire for months, hadn't experimented with teeth down there - but Brendon had some lube, and Spencer gave him a quick, sloppy handjob.

"You - oh! - don't have to go that fast," Brendon gasped as he jerked his hips into Spencer's hand.

"I want to," Spencer said. Really, the fact that he was holding himself back to some kind of human speed was a freaking miracle. "I've never done it like this."

Brendon twisted his fingers into the fitted sheet and squeezed his eyes shut. "New to me, too."

When he came, semen spilled onto Spencer's stomach. He blinked. Good thing he took his clothes off. "We have come?"

Brendon's eyes had gone completely white. That was weirdly cool. Spencer wondered if his eyes looked the same. "And we cry. It's not like we're dead, exactly."

"Huh." He touched his own cock experimentally and shivered. "Guess not."

Brendon leaned in and licked Spencer. Spencer let go of Brendon and shivered as Brendon jerked him off. Brendon purposely put his face by Spencer's cock when he came, and white lines streaked his cheeks. Spencer crinkled his nose, but Brendon wiped his face off with his hand and licked his fingers, and okay, he could go for that.

"You're something else," Spencer said. He licked his lip, and when he drew blood off the half-healed wound, he popped another boner.

Brendon eyed his cock with surprise. "So are you."

They made out for a minute - Brendon got hard again the second he tasted Spencer's blood again - and rubbed against each other. Spencer could feel it more acutely than he ever had as a human, almost like he could feel every cell in his body that contacted Brendon's cells. It didn't sound sexy, but it was. God, was it.

When they both came again, Spencer was wired. But he laid next to Brendon and brushed messed-up hair out of his face. He wasn't too sweaty, but they'd been rolling all over the place.

"I could go for a round three," Brendon said.

Spencer laughed. "Hold it there, Dracula. It can't be that long until dawn, can it?"

"Hmm. Guess not."

The coffin still sat in the middle of the room. Spencer really didn't want to get back in. "Tell me something."

Brendon nodded.

"Why are you still here?"

"Leverage," Brendon said quietly. "He has connections, and power."

Spencer nodded slowly. "Sounds like he needs to be taken out."

Brendon leaned in until his lips were touching Spencer's ear. "That's the idea."

"Let me help," Spencer said. He brushed a hand over Brendon's cheek.

"What about your life? Your friend Ryan?"

Spencer sighed. "My life's pretty much over. I'm sure you know that just as well as anyone."

Brendon's shoulders dropped.

"No, I meant..." Spencer frowned. "You had a job, right? Goals?"

Brendon bit his lip. "I wanted to be in a band. But I didn't really have anything else. Don't you?"

"Not much."

They laid in silence for a moment. Finally, Brendon said, "If you help, you can't back out, you know. And you'll have to do shitty things."

"Like killing people?"

Brendon looked down at the bed. "And hurting people."

Spencer nodded. The thought of beating someone up or draining them was...well. He'd be lying if it didn't like the sound of it. A lot. But he sure as hell wasn't going to run from a situation where he could do something. And he wasn't human anymore. That life was over.

Except. "Will I have to wear the outfit?"

"Yeah."

Spencer huffed out a breath. "Figures."

part one | master post | part three