Different Solutions or What happens when Mitchell meets Fitzroy P1
Title: Different Solutions or What happens when Mitchell meets Fitzroy
Pairing: John Mitchell/Henry Fitzroy (for now)
Rating: R
A/N: Today I'm going to start an experiment. My writing muse has been deeply asleep over many months. Only peeking out now an then. But after I finished watching Being Human with Aidan, I had a nagging plot bunny in my head. Of course there needs to be an AU for this yummy, sad, tortured creature. (I didn't look for one yet) And since I've never written about Henry Fitzroy, another sexy vampire I adore and have never written about, I'm gonna let them meet.
Thanks for the beta for grammar and spelling go to my dear friend loves_books
this is set after Mitchell has rescued Annie and before the murder investigations start in S3 of Being Human and at the end of Blood Ties
LONDON
“Oh, now there’s the famous artist…”
Henry turns around slowly at the vaguely familiar male voice, not speaking, but lowly breathing the words into his ear.
He meets the steady gaze of hazel brown eyes and a charming, open smile. The suspicious feeling he always gets when greeted by another vampire dissolves immediately when he recognizes the man who stands opposite him.
“Mitchell!” He offers his hand in greeting and the other takes it firmly.
“Fitzroy, already desperate enough to show your cartoons over here?” Mitchell chuckles.
Henry grins and says, looking around the crowded room, “Let’s put it that way.” He takes the European by the elbow and steers him into a quieter corner, “I needed to get away for a bit.”
“You make me curious.” Mitchell’s eyes start to glimmer with curiosity but Henry only shakes his head.
“Not here.” He says vaguely and two women are already coming towards them, glasses full of champagne raised, eyes full of admiration for the two handsome young men.
“I see.” Mitchell nods knowingly, “You want me to leave?”
“No, no, please stay. I could use some company with these…” the Canadian whispers under his breath.
“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Mitchell playfully mocks him and they share a knowing grin until they get consumed by the conversation with the two admirers of Mr. Fitzroy’s art.
++++
“So you still need to go to complete darkness at dawn?” Mitchell couldn’t believe his ears when Henry was urging him away from the party at the first grey light that was visible at the horizon.
“Well, I guess that’s the curse of the old ones.” He sighs, discarding his jacket onto the luxurious leather couch.
“You also still pass out?” Mitchell wanders off, looking for the kitchen and the fridge.
When an unsatisfied groan hits Henry’s ears he chuckles and calls into the other room, “Yes, and I also still don’t have anything in that fridge.”
Mitchell startles as the other vampire is standing behind him, not used to the speed of the old ones.
“And are YOU still eating pizza?” Henry’s stomach really revolts at that thought.
“Well, there isn’t much choice, is there?” They suddenly stare seriously at each other for a few moments.
Henry sighs, feeling the other’s nervousness starting up “Come on John, calm down. We can have that discussion finally or will you disappear on me again?”
Mitchell is surprised when the older vampire uses his first name and really feels like a little child in the presence of the four hundred year old son of a king, even though Henry actually looks younger then him.
“I’m not sure I’m ready though…”
“Let’s not make it more complicated than it is,” Henry says when he walks out of the kitchen, taking the remote and closing the shutters of his enormous flat with the hit of one button, turning the lights on when it’s in complete darkness.
“You can order pizza or whatever you like.”
That’s the last sentence Mitchell gets to hear for the next day.
He’s a bit lost in the übermodern apartment. He wanders around the rooms, inspecting the pieces of ancient art strewn across it. A few paintings on the walls, here and there an old dagger and swords. A Katana.
Looks like Henry brought his belongings and plans to stay here in England.
Mitchell shudders at the weapons, sliding his fingers carefully along the sharp blades anyway.
After he calls the pizza service his thoughts start to wander back to months ago, when he and Henry Fitzroy met for the very fist time.
+++++++
“You don’t want to go overseas?”
Mitchell had been so very startled when an unfamiliar voice greeted him from the dark entry of his new house at 11 pm.
He’d wandered around aimlessly, his thoughts not able to settle. Even after the move he couldn’t shake the pictures of all those dead people that haunted him each and every second of the day. Well, who had he been kidding that the move would help in the first place.
He stared at the stranger perplexed, first thinking it must be one of George and Nina’s new protégées, but then, he wouldn’t have known about him not wanting to go overseas.
The stranger was very young, around twenty, maybe even younger. He was as tall as Mitchell, wore his hair almost in the same fashion. Women would have probably called him beautiful. (Mitchell smiled briefly at his housemates’ discussion about another man being handsome) He was as clean shaven as George. The colour of his eyes wasn’t really recognisable in the dark.
As the young man kept fixing him with his gaze, collar of his jacket up high, saying nothing else, it dawned on Mitchell that this must be another of the carpet seller’s men who wants him out of the country.
“No.” He answers coldly, “Leave me alone.”
When he wanted to pass by the stranger, his key ready, he felt such a pressure against his chest, without the other man even moving, that he could only gasp, pressed backwards against the wall.
The other’s eyes had turned to what Mitchell already had suspected: a vampire stare. The words he heard in his head didn’t leave the other’s mouth, they must have come straight from his mind.
‘ That is not wise, John Mitchell.’
The pressure on his chest eased a bit.
“Why not? And who are you anyway?” Mitchell felt his anger rising. He surely should not be treated this way, vampire or not.
Suddenly the seemingly young man shook his head and looked back at Mitchell with normal eyes and a somewhat sad expression on his face.
“Henry Fitzroy.” He extended his hand, “I’m here to help you.” He waited for Mitchell to take it, “If you let me.”
After a few moments of uncertainty he hesitantly took the offered hand, thinking, it can’t become worse.
“How’re you going to do that if I don’t want to come?”
“How about we go inside and get a bit more comfortable?”
“I’m not…”
“You are alone, its full moon so your two werewolves are busy elsewhere, and Annie is out wandering the streets.”
Mitchell did a double take at how well the stranger knew his friends, but nothing actually surprised him anymore. “I don’t see how you can help me.” He growled, not exactly friendly.
“But I do.” Henry met his frown with a little lopsided grin.
“What interest do you have in me? You don’t even know me.”
“I’ve an interest in all vampires who get lost.” The very young face showed genuine concern and there was even kindness in Fitzroy’s eyes, which Mitchell hadn’t expected at all.
Mitchell sighed and gave up, “Okay, whatever you want. I’ve nothing to do tonight anyway.” He still shook his head in disbelief and led Mr. Fitzroy into the house.
After he closed the door firmly, he offered his guest a drink but the other vampire declined politely.
“I suspect Herrick never showed you how to take care of your needs without killing anyone?”
Henry had thrown his jacket carelessly across the back of a chair, folding his arms across his chest, looking determinedly at Mitchell. He came straight to the point with his question.
“He what? Wait…how do you know…?” Mitchell took a huge gulp of the scotch he’d just poured himself.
Fitzroy just inclined his head a bit sideways, studying his host.
“Oh okay, I see, you’re one of the old ones then.”
“Well, not really old, but compared to you, yes, one of the older ones.”
“Oh come on, now don’t mock me. First you say you’re gonna help me and then you won’t even tell me anything about you. How’s that gonna work?”
Henry was amused about the younger one’s rage. He stepped up to the counter where Mitchell stood and laid his hand soothingly onto his arm, “I’m more than four hundred years old, child.”
Mitchell’s eyes shot up to study the seemingly younger man’s face, “Prove that.”
“Well, I’m Henry the VIIIth bastard son.” Henry lifted his chin in what was supposed to be a somewhat majestic manner. And when Mitchell laughed, shaking his head, he waved his hand as though to erase his own words and added, “I guess you just have to trust me on that for now.”
++++++
Back in the apartment Mitchell chews his big pizza and admits to himself how tasteless it actually is. It helps him survive though, until he probably will go insane.
He sits cross-legged opposite Henry on a big armchair and studies the “sleeping figure”. He truly looks dead. No breathing, no movement. Nothing.
Mitchell wonders again for the thousandth time how he can walk around in sunlight while this poor creature can only survive at night. Must have something to do with European and American vampires. A riddle he won’t be able to find an answer to just yet.
He sits in silence for a while longer, munching and staring.
Then he remembers Henry’s words about how to ‘glamour’ people. That it isn’t a myth from the movies but that it is truly possible. That you don’t have to kill in order to feed, to survive. That you can make people forget that you had ever drunk from them.
In hindsight Mitchell becomes aware of the fact of how much Herrick had used him, being his creator and telling him nothing about this, raising him as a killing machine, a murderer.
Mitchell chokes on a large piece of pizza and throws the remains angrily aside, “Fuck Herrick! Son of a bitch! How could you?”
He didn’t trust Henry enough all those months ago to try what he had told him about.
Now it’s different. Mitchell’s about to go insane. He'd read the ad for Henry's gallery opening accidentally and thought that it must be fate that the older vampire was in the UK again.
Maybe he could even glamour him somehow? Make him forget what he'd done?
And the hunger... the hunger grew almost unbearable. Every minute amongst humans became more and more difficult. He sees throbbing veins everywhere and not people anymore.
Despite his wish to behave like a human being he just can't fight his true nature.
On top of that, he really wants to be with Annie. Wants to make her happy. But as soon as he'd stayed with her in the house for a while, trying his best to be his old funny, kind self, he got restless and felt his temper rising, and so in order not to hurt her he just had to get out. Her puzzled, sad glance drilled a hole into his back.
"You're hungry."
Mitchell almost falls off the chair when Henry's quiet voice rips him away from his thoughts. He must have dozed off too. The shutters are drawn up again and he can see the last daylight fading.
He's unwilling to answer. He wants to jump up but his cramped legs don't want to cooperate.
"Your hands are shaking." Henry gets up from his bed and leans in very closely, “Your pupils are unfocused. I bet all you think right now is ‘I need to feed’..."
"Shut up." Mitchell still doesn’t want to admit that to himself. But hearing it from the other vampire makes it even more true.
“Stop torturing yourself.” Henry walks lazily to the window, looking out over the city. “You want to live like a human being? You want to blend in?”
Mitchell only nods, swallowing, feeling the presence of the other’s blood more and more in the confined space of the bedroom. “I can’t though,” he barely gets the words out, but finally is able to stand.
“You can.” Henry suddenly stands in front of him, clearly in his personal space, breathing the same air. He takes Mitchell’s face into his hands and looks very intently at the other man.
“I’ll show you how.”
When Mitchell lowers his lashes to look down, but doesn’t step away, Henry lifts his chin up again so they’re eye to eye and whispers, “You’re also afraid to have sex, because whenever you do it with some one, you might end up killing them.”
Mitchell swallows and nods, feeling under some kind of spell even when Henry takes away his hand from his chin.
They stare at each other.
Mitchell’s not aware of the tears in his eyes and for the third time in his long life he mutters, “Help me.” And despite the terrifying memory of what Lucy had done, after he said the exact same words to her, hope flares up in his chest that maybe this time, with a man, a fellow vampire, his desperate plea will be heard.
He doesn’t know that he’s shaking badly until Henry steadies him by grabbing his arm with one hand and stroking his wild curls away from his eyes with the other. “I will.” He inclines his head to one side, revealing the vein in his neck.
A pure invitation.
Mitchell swallows several times, trying to speak, shaking even more, no words coming out.
“Let it out, John.” Henry urges him on, “Be your true self. I know how to stop you.”
“But humans…”
“Shh we’ll come to that later.” Henry again strokes Mitchell’s hair in a gentle, soothing gesture. “Don’t be afraid,” he says and changes into his vampire self, showing his unique double fangs to Mitchell.
“Fuck…” Is all the younger vampire says before he lets his beast out and bites forcefully into the offered neck.
Henry smiles at the relieved groan that escapes Mitchell’s throat as he drinks. He also immediately feels the young man’s power and extreme thirst. Refraining for so long really does take its toll on a vampire. No surprise that he killed at least ten people in one go, with Daisy probably killing the other ten in box tunnel twenty.
Henry lets himself be pushed back on the bed, feeling how Mitchell’s restraint has already gone completely and a hard on thrusts against his thigh through the thin material of his silky sleeping pants.
Mitchell holds him down with strength the other vampire loves, not fighting back yet with his own power, but marvelling in the feeling of rescuing a dangerous, lost soul.
He feels Mitchell’s strong muscles flex when he strokes his hands across his back and ass, getting aroused himself from the powerful onslaught. He hasn’t been like this with another vampire in ages either. Always holding back with Mike and Vicky beside him, tempting him one way or the other. He brushes aside their pictures in his mind. Neither of them had wanted him as lover.
After a few moments, slightly weakened already, Henry finally sinks his own teeth into Mitchell’s flesh and sucks hard, loving the rich taste of Mitchell’s blood flooding his tongue and mouth. He encircling the other’s waist with his legs very firmly, bucking upwards, fingers gripping the wild dark curls forcefully.
Mitchell barely seems to notice. In fact he starts to drink with even more urgency, grinding his hips into the man below, his mind gone completely, running on pure instinct, sucking and fucking.
Henry feels really blessed from the power above him, the raw animal he knows he’ll be able to tame. But not yet. It had to be free before it could be reined in. He urges Mitchell on, writhing beneath him, drinking in huge gulps, ripping his shirt apart, leaving bloody streaks with his fingernails on his back.
Together they fumble to free their dicks, looking for friction, finally getting it while never loosening their mouths from the other’s neck, the blood flooding in a circle through them.
Henry can’t maintain his cool attitude anymore, being sucked in literally into the vampire play.
Time seems to stand still while they satisfy each other, not thinking, just reacting, urging each other forward, higher and higher into total bliss.
After they calm down, unable to speak for a while, they lie beside each other, the bed around them and their clothes a total, bloody, shredded mess.
Mitchell finds his voice first. “Jesus, that was something else.” He chuckles and gets up, feeling blood drying on his body everywhere. He turns and looks down at Henry who smiles lazily up at him.
“But you don’t see how this will help you in the long run?” the Canadian suggests, his slight grin in place.
Mitchell can’t help but think, what a beautiful, young-looking creature, and then shakes his head, “Exactly.”
“Well,” Henry sits up against the headboard, throwing the duvet across his lower body, asking, “You want a shower first? This could take a while.”
“No, I don’t care.” Mitchell lets himself fall down again in the comfortable armchair, not caring that he’s naked.
“I was like you shortly after I was made. Desperate, alone, always hungry.” Henry pauses, staring into space. “I’ve killed quite a few people myself…” He trails off.
Mitchell says nothing, waiting, studying the seemingly fragile other man. He’s feeling comfortably satisfied but not drugged up at all, as he had after the box tunnel twenty.
“I was only seventeen when my lover turned me…”
Mitchell supresses a gasp of surprise, listening intently.
“She had to leave me, otherwise we’d have killed each other over territory.” Another pause and Mitchell’s wondering why that hadn’t been the case for him and Herrick. Again the only explanation could have been the difference between the continents.
“Over the first hundred years, I, like you, got tired of killing. I knew one didn’t have to kill in order to drink. She had done that with me for months. But I didn’t know how to achieve it.”
Henry looks up, fixing Mitchell with a meaningful glance, “I started to experiment with my victims.”
“I thought that was only possible in movies,” Mitchell mutters under his breath. “I should have tried…” He feels even more like a stupid bastard right now.
“You refused to drink at all, that’s even more brave,” Henry’s suddenly behind him, massaging his tense shoulders.
Mitchell chuckles, asking, “You taught yourself the fast movements too?”
“Only out of necessity, yes,” the older vampire laughs softly and they’re silent for a few moments, enjoying each others’ company.
Mitchell closes his eyes and leans back into the strong, experienced touch. He hasn’t felt this secure, this relaxed in a very long time.
“Tell me how you think this is gonna work?” He asks in a low voice, Henry’s massage going from his neck to his scalp, then towards his shoulder blades.
“First you feed on me until you recognize the point when you need to stop.” The older vampire starts to explain, and Mitchell is suddenly aware of a sharp piercing pain at his neck.
Henry takes a sip from him and then licks over the wound again to close it before continuing to speak, “We’ll find out together when you’re not really hungry anymore but start to just do it for the pleasure, when you fall into the delirious state and don’t realize that you’ll suck your victims dry.” Henry sinks his fangs into the other side of Mitchell’s neck and drinks deliberately slowly, a few moments longer then stops again, “When you’ve mastered that, we look for people. I’ll accompany you, I’ll teach you how to pull yourself away and then how to glamour them.”
Mitchell looks up at the other vampire, enjoying the warm, pleasurable feeling that surges through his gut at being bitten and not having to feel guilty about it, “Sounds like a lot of work.” He clears his throat and licks his suddenly dry lips, cradling his half hard dick with his hand. “I still don’t know how I deserve this and why you’re here.”
“Maybe I need a new challenge?”
part 2 http://delorita.livejournal.com/207339.html
Pairing: John Mitchell/Henry Fitzroy (for now)
Rating: R
A/N: Today I'm going to start an experiment. My writing muse has been deeply asleep over many months. Only peeking out now an then. But after I finished watching Being Human with Aidan, I had a nagging plot bunny in my head. Of course there needs to be an AU for this yummy, sad, tortured creature. (I didn't look for one yet) And since I've never written about Henry Fitzroy, another sexy vampire I adore and have never written about, I'm gonna let them meet.
Thanks for the beta for grammar and spelling go to my dear friend loves_books
this is set after Mitchell has rescued Annie and before the murder investigations start in S3 of Being Human and at the end of Blood Ties
LONDON
“Oh, now there’s the famous artist…”
Henry turns around slowly at the vaguely familiar male voice, not speaking, but lowly breathing the words into his ear.
He meets the steady gaze of hazel brown eyes and a charming, open smile. The suspicious feeling he always gets when greeted by another vampire dissolves immediately when he recognizes the man who stands opposite him.
“Mitchell!” He offers his hand in greeting and the other takes it firmly.
“Fitzroy, already desperate enough to show your cartoons over here?” Mitchell chuckles.
Henry grins and says, looking around the crowded room, “Let’s put it that way.” He takes the European by the elbow and steers him into a quieter corner, “I needed to get away for a bit.”
“You make me curious.” Mitchell’s eyes start to glimmer with curiosity but Henry only shakes his head.
“Not here.” He says vaguely and two women are already coming towards them, glasses full of champagne raised, eyes full of admiration for the two handsome young men.
“I see.” Mitchell nods knowingly, “You want me to leave?”
“No, no, please stay. I could use some company with these…” the Canadian whispers under his breath.
“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Mitchell playfully mocks him and they share a knowing grin until they get consumed by the conversation with the two admirers of Mr. Fitzroy’s art.
++++
“So you still need to go to complete darkness at dawn?” Mitchell couldn’t believe his ears when Henry was urging him away from the party at the first grey light that was visible at the horizon.
“Well, I guess that’s the curse of the old ones.” He sighs, discarding his jacket onto the luxurious leather couch.
“You also still pass out?” Mitchell wanders off, looking for the kitchen and the fridge.
When an unsatisfied groan hits Henry’s ears he chuckles and calls into the other room, “Yes, and I also still don’t have anything in that fridge.”
Mitchell startles as the other vampire is standing behind him, not used to the speed of the old ones.
“And are YOU still eating pizza?” Henry’s stomach really revolts at that thought.
“Well, there isn’t much choice, is there?” They suddenly stare seriously at each other for a few moments.
Henry sighs, feeling the other’s nervousness starting up “Come on John, calm down. We can have that discussion finally or will you disappear on me again?”
Mitchell is surprised when the older vampire uses his first name and really feels like a little child in the presence of the four hundred year old son of a king, even though Henry actually looks younger then him.
“I’m not sure I’m ready though…”
“Let’s not make it more complicated than it is,” Henry says when he walks out of the kitchen, taking the remote and closing the shutters of his enormous flat with the hit of one button, turning the lights on when it’s in complete darkness.
“You can order pizza or whatever you like.”
That’s the last sentence Mitchell gets to hear for the next day.
He’s a bit lost in the übermodern apartment. He wanders around the rooms, inspecting the pieces of ancient art strewn across it. A few paintings on the walls, here and there an old dagger and swords. A Katana.
Looks like Henry brought his belongings and plans to stay here in England.
Mitchell shudders at the weapons, sliding his fingers carefully along the sharp blades anyway.
After he calls the pizza service his thoughts start to wander back to months ago, when he and Henry Fitzroy met for the very fist time.
+++++++
“You don’t want to go overseas?”
Mitchell had been so very startled when an unfamiliar voice greeted him from the dark entry of his new house at 11 pm.
He’d wandered around aimlessly, his thoughts not able to settle. Even after the move he couldn’t shake the pictures of all those dead people that haunted him each and every second of the day. Well, who had he been kidding that the move would help in the first place.
He stared at the stranger perplexed, first thinking it must be one of George and Nina’s new protégées, but then, he wouldn’t have known about him not wanting to go overseas.
The stranger was very young, around twenty, maybe even younger. He was as tall as Mitchell, wore his hair almost in the same fashion. Women would have probably called him beautiful. (Mitchell smiled briefly at his housemates’ discussion about another man being handsome) He was as clean shaven as George. The colour of his eyes wasn’t really recognisable in the dark.
As the young man kept fixing him with his gaze, collar of his jacket up high, saying nothing else, it dawned on Mitchell that this must be another of the carpet seller’s men who wants him out of the country.
“No.” He answers coldly, “Leave me alone.”
When he wanted to pass by the stranger, his key ready, he felt such a pressure against his chest, without the other man even moving, that he could only gasp, pressed backwards against the wall.
The other’s eyes had turned to what Mitchell already had suspected: a vampire stare. The words he heard in his head didn’t leave the other’s mouth, they must have come straight from his mind.
‘ That is not wise, John Mitchell.’
The pressure on his chest eased a bit.
“Why not? And who are you anyway?” Mitchell felt his anger rising. He surely should not be treated this way, vampire or not.
Suddenly the seemingly young man shook his head and looked back at Mitchell with normal eyes and a somewhat sad expression on his face.
“Henry Fitzroy.” He extended his hand, “I’m here to help you.” He waited for Mitchell to take it, “If you let me.”
After a few moments of uncertainty he hesitantly took the offered hand, thinking, it can’t become worse.
“How’re you going to do that if I don’t want to come?”
“How about we go inside and get a bit more comfortable?”
“I’m not…”
“You are alone, its full moon so your two werewolves are busy elsewhere, and Annie is out wandering the streets.”
Mitchell did a double take at how well the stranger knew his friends, but nothing actually surprised him anymore. “I don’t see how you can help me.” He growled, not exactly friendly.
“But I do.” Henry met his frown with a little lopsided grin.
“What interest do you have in me? You don’t even know me.”
“I’ve an interest in all vampires who get lost.” The very young face showed genuine concern and there was even kindness in Fitzroy’s eyes, which Mitchell hadn’t expected at all.
Mitchell sighed and gave up, “Okay, whatever you want. I’ve nothing to do tonight anyway.” He still shook his head in disbelief and led Mr. Fitzroy into the house.
After he closed the door firmly, he offered his guest a drink but the other vampire declined politely.
“I suspect Herrick never showed you how to take care of your needs without killing anyone?”
Henry had thrown his jacket carelessly across the back of a chair, folding his arms across his chest, looking determinedly at Mitchell. He came straight to the point with his question.
“He what? Wait…how do you know…?” Mitchell took a huge gulp of the scotch he’d just poured himself.
Fitzroy just inclined his head a bit sideways, studying his host.
“Oh okay, I see, you’re one of the old ones then.”
“Well, not really old, but compared to you, yes, one of the older ones.”
“Oh come on, now don’t mock me. First you say you’re gonna help me and then you won’t even tell me anything about you. How’s that gonna work?”
Henry was amused about the younger one’s rage. He stepped up to the counter where Mitchell stood and laid his hand soothingly onto his arm, “I’m more than four hundred years old, child.”
Mitchell’s eyes shot up to study the seemingly younger man’s face, “Prove that.”
“Well, I’m Henry the VIIIth bastard son.” Henry lifted his chin in what was supposed to be a somewhat majestic manner. And when Mitchell laughed, shaking his head, he waved his hand as though to erase his own words and added, “I guess you just have to trust me on that for now.”
++++++
Back in the apartment Mitchell chews his big pizza and admits to himself how tasteless it actually is. It helps him survive though, until he probably will go insane.
He sits cross-legged opposite Henry on a big armchair and studies the “sleeping figure”. He truly looks dead. No breathing, no movement. Nothing.
Mitchell wonders again for the thousandth time how he can walk around in sunlight while this poor creature can only survive at night. Must have something to do with European and American vampires. A riddle he won’t be able to find an answer to just yet.
He sits in silence for a while longer, munching and staring.
Then he remembers Henry’s words about how to ‘glamour’ people. That it isn’t a myth from the movies but that it is truly possible. That you don’t have to kill in order to feed, to survive. That you can make people forget that you had ever drunk from them.
In hindsight Mitchell becomes aware of the fact of how much Herrick had used him, being his creator and telling him nothing about this, raising him as a killing machine, a murderer.
Mitchell chokes on a large piece of pizza and throws the remains angrily aside, “Fuck Herrick! Son of a bitch! How could you?”
He didn’t trust Henry enough all those months ago to try what he had told him about.
Now it’s different. Mitchell’s about to go insane. He'd read the ad for Henry's gallery opening accidentally and thought that it must be fate that the older vampire was in the UK again.
Maybe he could even glamour him somehow? Make him forget what he'd done?
And the hunger... the hunger grew almost unbearable. Every minute amongst humans became more and more difficult. He sees throbbing veins everywhere and not people anymore.
Despite his wish to behave like a human being he just can't fight his true nature.
On top of that, he really wants to be with Annie. Wants to make her happy. But as soon as he'd stayed with her in the house for a while, trying his best to be his old funny, kind self, he got restless and felt his temper rising, and so in order not to hurt her he just had to get out. Her puzzled, sad glance drilled a hole into his back.
"You're hungry."
Mitchell almost falls off the chair when Henry's quiet voice rips him away from his thoughts. He must have dozed off too. The shutters are drawn up again and he can see the last daylight fading.
He's unwilling to answer. He wants to jump up but his cramped legs don't want to cooperate.
"Your hands are shaking." Henry gets up from his bed and leans in very closely, “Your pupils are unfocused. I bet all you think right now is ‘I need to feed’..."
"Shut up." Mitchell still doesn’t want to admit that to himself. But hearing it from the other vampire makes it even more true.
“Stop torturing yourself.” Henry walks lazily to the window, looking out over the city. “You want to live like a human being? You want to blend in?”
Mitchell only nods, swallowing, feeling the presence of the other’s blood more and more in the confined space of the bedroom. “I can’t though,” he barely gets the words out, but finally is able to stand.
“You can.” Henry suddenly stands in front of him, clearly in his personal space, breathing the same air. He takes Mitchell’s face into his hands and looks very intently at the other man.
“I’ll show you how.”
When Mitchell lowers his lashes to look down, but doesn’t step away, Henry lifts his chin up again so they’re eye to eye and whispers, “You’re also afraid to have sex, because whenever you do it with some one, you might end up killing them.”
Mitchell swallows and nods, feeling under some kind of spell even when Henry takes away his hand from his chin.
They stare at each other.
Mitchell’s not aware of the tears in his eyes and for the third time in his long life he mutters, “Help me.” And despite the terrifying memory of what Lucy had done, after he said the exact same words to her, hope flares up in his chest that maybe this time, with a man, a fellow vampire, his desperate plea will be heard.
He doesn’t know that he’s shaking badly until Henry steadies him by grabbing his arm with one hand and stroking his wild curls away from his eyes with the other. “I will.” He inclines his head to one side, revealing the vein in his neck.
A pure invitation.
Mitchell swallows several times, trying to speak, shaking even more, no words coming out.
“Let it out, John.” Henry urges him on, “Be your true self. I know how to stop you.”
“But humans…”
“Shh we’ll come to that later.” Henry again strokes Mitchell’s hair in a gentle, soothing gesture. “Don’t be afraid,” he says and changes into his vampire self, showing his unique double fangs to Mitchell.
“Fuck…” Is all the younger vampire says before he lets his beast out and bites forcefully into the offered neck.
Henry smiles at the relieved groan that escapes Mitchell’s throat as he drinks. He also immediately feels the young man’s power and extreme thirst. Refraining for so long really does take its toll on a vampire. No surprise that he killed at least ten people in one go, with Daisy probably killing the other ten in box tunnel twenty.
Henry lets himself be pushed back on the bed, feeling how Mitchell’s restraint has already gone completely and a hard on thrusts against his thigh through the thin material of his silky sleeping pants.
Mitchell holds him down with strength the other vampire loves, not fighting back yet with his own power, but marvelling in the feeling of rescuing a dangerous, lost soul.
He feels Mitchell’s strong muscles flex when he strokes his hands across his back and ass, getting aroused himself from the powerful onslaught. He hasn’t been like this with another vampire in ages either. Always holding back with Mike and Vicky beside him, tempting him one way or the other. He brushes aside their pictures in his mind. Neither of them had wanted him as lover.
After a few moments, slightly weakened already, Henry finally sinks his own teeth into Mitchell’s flesh and sucks hard, loving the rich taste of Mitchell’s blood flooding his tongue and mouth. He encircling the other’s waist with his legs very firmly, bucking upwards, fingers gripping the wild dark curls forcefully.
Mitchell barely seems to notice. In fact he starts to drink with even more urgency, grinding his hips into the man below, his mind gone completely, running on pure instinct, sucking and fucking.
Henry feels really blessed from the power above him, the raw animal he knows he’ll be able to tame. But not yet. It had to be free before it could be reined in. He urges Mitchell on, writhing beneath him, drinking in huge gulps, ripping his shirt apart, leaving bloody streaks with his fingernails on his back.
Together they fumble to free their dicks, looking for friction, finally getting it while never loosening their mouths from the other’s neck, the blood flooding in a circle through them.
Henry can’t maintain his cool attitude anymore, being sucked in literally into the vampire play.
Time seems to stand still while they satisfy each other, not thinking, just reacting, urging each other forward, higher and higher into total bliss.
After they calm down, unable to speak for a while, they lie beside each other, the bed around them and their clothes a total, bloody, shredded mess.
Mitchell finds his voice first. “Jesus, that was something else.” He chuckles and gets up, feeling blood drying on his body everywhere. He turns and looks down at Henry who smiles lazily up at him.
“But you don’t see how this will help you in the long run?” the Canadian suggests, his slight grin in place.
Mitchell can’t help but think, what a beautiful, young-looking creature, and then shakes his head, “Exactly.”
“Well,” Henry sits up against the headboard, throwing the duvet across his lower body, asking, “You want a shower first? This could take a while.”
“No, I don’t care.” Mitchell lets himself fall down again in the comfortable armchair, not caring that he’s naked.
“I was like you shortly after I was made. Desperate, alone, always hungry.” Henry pauses, staring into space. “I’ve killed quite a few people myself…” He trails off.
Mitchell says nothing, waiting, studying the seemingly fragile other man. He’s feeling comfortably satisfied but not drugged up at all, as he had after the box tunnel twenty.
“I was only seventeen when my lover turned me…”
Mitchell supresses a gasp of surprise, listening intently.
“She had to leave me, otherwise we’d have killed each other over territory.” Another pause and Mitchell’s wondering why that hadn’t been the case for him and Herrick. Again the only explanation could have been the difference between the continents.
“Over the first hundred years, I, like you, got tired of killing. I knew one didn’t have to kill in order to drink. She had done that with me for months. But I didn’t know how to achieve it.”
Henry looks up, fixing Mitchell with a meaningful glance, “I started to experiment with my victims.”
“I thought that was only possible in movies,” Mitchell mutters under his breath. “I should have tried…” He feels even more like a stupid bastard right now.
“You refused to drink at all, that’s even more brave,” Henry’s suddenly behind him, massaging his tense shoulders.
Mitchell chuckles, asking, “You taught yourself the fast movements too?”
“Only out of necessity, yes,” the older vampire laughs softly and they’re silent for a few moments, enjoying each others’ company.
Mitchell closes his eyes and leans back into the strong, experienced touch. He hasn’t felt this secure, this relaxed in a very long time.
“Tell me how you think this is gonna work?” He asks in a low voice, Henry’s massage going from his neck to his scalp, then towards his shoulder blades.
“First you feed on me until you recognize the point when you need to stop.” The older vampire starts to explain, and Mitchell is suddenly aware of a sharp piercing pain at his neck.
Henry takes a sip from him and then licks over the wound again to close it before continuing to speak, “We’ll find out together when you’re not really hungry anymore but start to just do it for the pleasure, when you fall into the delirious state and don’t realize that you’ll suck your victims dry.” Henry sinks his fangs into the other side of Mitchell’s neck and drinks deliberately slowly, a few moments longer then stops again, “When you’ve mastered that, we look for people. I’ll accompany you, I’ll teach you how to pull yourself away and then how to glamour them.”
Mitchell looks up at the other vampire, enjoying the warm, pleasurable feeling that surges through his gut at being bitten and not having to feel guilty about it, “Sounds like a lot of work.” He clears his throat and licks his suddenly dry lips, cradling his half hard dick with his hand. “I still don’t know how I deserve this and why you’re here.”
“Maybe I need a new challenge?”
part 2 http://delorita.livejournal.com/207339.html