NaNoWriMo 2010 - True Love's Kiss [ 9 / 10 ]
Title: True Love's Kiss
Rating: M
Fandom: ORIGINAL
Warnings: ANGST, domestic violence, m/m sexual relations, vampirism, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt
Summary: Jonathan Grant is a haunted soul. After being born deaf, he grew up in a normal home until his parents died and he was sent into the foster care system, moving from abusive household to abusive household until the age of eighteen, when he fell in love for the first time. However, these supposed lovers were no better than the abusive foster parents he had lived with for so long and soon he found himself trapped, time and time again, under the cruel hand of those meant to love him. He came to believe that no one cared and that there was only one way to escape the pain; to truly be free. But there was someone who saw what was happening to him, someone who was determined to rescue him from his dark world at all costs. Jonathan must now decide if he will take this chance to live a new life, one so completely different from what he has known for so long, or finish the job that his "savior" had interrupted
Jonathan could sense the sun setting as a normal person might feel the sun rising if their windows were facing the east side because of the warmth and light. While most of the sunlight was blocked from entering his room, there was still the odd attempt to pierce through the thick curtains and his newly sensitive skin could feel every little bit of light that came through, even if it never actually touched his cool skin. He felt himself make a noise of some kind and curled up closer to his somewhat warm cushion, holding it closer as he nuzzled his face against it and its fluffiness, even if it made him sneeze. Which he did and he could feel his cushion laugh at him.
Wait. His cushion was laughing at him? He forced himself to open his eyes and bring his senses back from sleep but it took some effort. There was a warm weight that rested against his shoulders that wasn’t exactly restricting and now that he really brushed his hand against the texture of the cushion it felt more like skin than any kind of cloth. For a split second, he started to panic but then remembered exactly where he was and who his cushion was. He smiled and nuzzled back against the other man. For once, he felt safe in the arms of a lover.
There was some rumbling in the chest beneath him, telling him that his lover was saying something, presumably to him, but he chose not to look up and just relished in the feeling. He wished he could stay like this in the other man’s arms forever. He would never again have to worry about screwing up and earning yet another beating or a round of harsh words. No one would pull him away and force him to his knees to swallow what should have been his right to say no to. In Decimus’ arms he was safe and always would be. Somehow, he just knew he would be.
The arm wrapped around his shoulders ran the fingers of that hand up and down his arm for a moment or two, the touch feather light and almost ticklish. Jon couldn’t help his smile at the sensation, glad that he wasn’t ticklish at all. Decimus seemed to find it funny because he said something again. The vibrations he could feel under his cheek weren’t distinguishable enough to be recognized as real words but that hardly mattered. If it was important the other would make him raise his head so he could watch those sinful lips move to form words. He had to say that no real disadvantage to either situation.
Eventually, however, there was tap on his shoulder that told him that there was a need to get up and despite his little groans of protest. He knew that there was no real way he could keep the other from getting up. He was half the man’s size and probably a good fifty pounds lighter, despite having gained a lot of weight back when his body returned to its natural, healthy weight. So he sighed and rolled over to allow his lover to get up, wanting just a few more minutes of shut eye while he could grab them. Being away during the day earlier had been tiring indeed. He didn’t think that being so near sunlight would sap from him that much energy though, now that he thought about it, at least half of it went to fighting the instinct to hide upstairs in the room again from both the sunlight and him.
His dark eyes snapped open at that thought and immediately he curled up on himself, clinging to the pillow and the blankets around him. He didn’t feel the dip of Decimus in the bed anymore but he knew the man was somewhere in the room. He could smell him still, even if he couldn’t hear him. But what Jon was more was the fact that Guillaume knew where he was. He was found out. He had thought that once he got away from that house, he would never have to see that handsome face twisted into an all too familiar sneer and the cruel words he could still see coming off those lips. Would he never be free of that man? What had he done to deserve this kind treatment by the universe?
He might have made a sound he didn’t realize he had made because one moment he was curled by himself on the bed and the next he was gathered, blanket and all into the arms of his new lover and held so very gently as if he was a delicate being rather than the monster he was now. He could feel a soothing hand petting his back and another running through his hair but he paid neither any real heed. He felt like crying, he honestly did. All he ever wanted was a place that could be considered a home. Why did Guillaume have to find him and ruin everything? Now something would go wrong and everything would fall apart around him. It always would.
Decimus kissed his eyelids and cheeks, reassurances that were there but Jon wasn’t sure if he could trust that they would stay that way. He could almost feel the anger building in the other’s body. There was tenseness in the arms that held him that wasn’t there before. His first instinct was to slip away. Even with the vampire in him making him braver and more confident this something that he had ingrained into him long before it had become instinct to fight. He could protect himself better if he was curled up somewhere else. Judging from the way Guillaume fell when Decimus hit him, this was going to hurt worse than any beating Guy had ever given him. He could only hope that the anger would pass quickly and that there wouldn’t be any lingering pain afterward. That hurt worse.
But as he tried to get away, Decimus’ arms held him firmly in place, wrapping a little more tightly around him but not hurting him as the other’s cheek rested on his hair. He could have sworn he felt tears falling onto his head but decided it was probably better if he didn’t know the truth. Maybe if he stayed still and let whatever moodiness had overcome his lover pass without comment, he could avoid whatever punishment he had managed to earn through his actions that caused the anger. The anger might not be directed at him but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be the one to take the blame for it.
After a few long moments, he was laid down on the bed and his dark hair was brushed back from his face by a gentle hand. He opened his eyes at that and looked up to see Decimus watching him with sad eyes as he kept petting him. Jon wasn’t sure what that expression meant and he would have asked if the other hadn’t started talking and therefore drew his attention to the other’s mouth. It was tricky to focus on the words that were being said and once he realized what they were he couldn’t pretend he didn’t know what was being said.
“I’ll make him pay for everything, my love,” Decimus had been saying, “everything he’s ever done to you to make you so afraid of him still. I’ll make sure he understands what it is to suffer as you had under his roof so that, if he survives, he’ll know better than to so much as think of hurting anyone else as he did you.” Then Decimus leaned forward and kissed him softly, gently, as if trying to replace the bad memories with good ones.
Jonathan tried to think of a way to answer when his lover leaned back and got off the bed to finish getting dressed or even if he wanted to answer. What did one say when the man who saved them from certain death promised vengeance on their behalf on a man who had all but killed them? Guy had not been the first lover to beat him, starve him or rape him but he had been the last and the most enthusiastic about it. From the moment he had heard that Jon was deaf he stopped all pretense of being a kind lover who only slipped up because of outside stresses and went into full on violence without bothering with an excuse.
Instead of answering he decided that it might be the smarter idea to join his lover, at the very least for breakfast, while he thought of exactly how to gesticulate what he wanted to say. He couldn’t very well say that he didn’t want Guillaume tortured for what he had endured for five long years as the man’s lover. In fact, the vampire in him wanted to be the one to inflict that kind of pain on the man itself. However was torturing Guy really the smartest idea? He was just a human and a slim one at that. Even in the daylight he had looked frail beside Decimus and Paeonius in body size alone. Had they been unarmed he was fairly sure his sire and Paeonius would have kicked his ass anyway. The torture they could inflict might very well kill him and that would leave a mess and a half behind to clean up.
Getting up from the bed, he dressed quickly just as Decimus left the room, and followed him down the stairs, not bothering with socks or shoes for the moment as he knew the floor of this part of the house well enough to know that there was nothing that could hurt him. As soon as he closed the door behind him, making sure not to slam it, he turned his head towards a smell that was both familiar and not to him, a smell that was simultaneously sweet and yet had a strong metallic twang to it. Was that human blood? He wasn’t sure. He hadn’t smelled anything like it with his current senses and it certainly didn’t smell like animal blood.
He followed the strong smell, hoping it wasn’t what he thought it was, down the stairs of the house and towards the kitchen, where the lights were on and there were shadows of people moving around. He focused for a moment on the shadows, counting them. One, two, three. So there was someone else here. Whoever it was smelled of that sweet metallic smell was probably human, though, judging from the shadows alone was a little slimmer than the other two figures, presumably Decimus and Paeonius. Curious he stepped into the room, intending to fetch something to drink and quench his building hunger at the sweet smell.
But when he stepped inside the room, he saw someone he didn’t expect sitting at the dining room table, someone who was familiar to him and comforting. Had he been able to speak he was fairly sure he would have gasped out his name. Instead he just stared and his lips parted in surprise, not realizing he had been noticed until he was all but sitting at the table staring in disbelief. Jason was here? That sweet smell was coming from him. He was hurt. He hoped it wasn’t Guillaume who did it.
When Jason looked up at him, Jonathan could see happiness and relief spreading across his face. His pretty blue eyes sparkled and his face, though bruised, stretched into a smile. “Hey Jon,” he was saying, reaching across the table to take a hold of his hand, “It’s been a long time. I’m glad I found you safe and sound. I didn’t know what I was going to do if your friend here had been lying to me when he told me you were living with him.” The touch of the other’s hand against his was too light and unnaturally cold.
Jonathan looked confused at his friend, trying to see what was wrong when the image of him shifted as if he was merely a projection. He took his hand back in surprise, staring, unsure what to think of this but Decimus was quick to rest a hand on his shoulder and kneel next to him, well within eyesight, to explain. Paeonius stood by the kitchen sink, holding something that looked suspiciously like a talisman card or otherwise enchanted charm and watched them with wary eyes. He looked far from pleased about what was going on. Jon found he couldn’t blame him.
Decimus turned his head so that he could see his lips moving but the image of Jason stayed where he was, watching him with a smile on his bruised and battered face. “Because we walk the line between life and death, we often can see both worlds as clearly as most people see one or the other,” he said softly, keeping his grey eyes locked with his lover’s, “and your friend Jason is no different than any other soul we meet.” He took a deep breath as if he was about to say something he really didn’t want to say. “I’m sorry Jon but your friend Jason has passed away. He died this afternoon from a brain aneurism.” Jon didn’t need him to say what it was that caused the brain damage. He knew deep down inside himself that it was indirectly his fault.
He looked up at his friend as his hands went through the motions, trying to get across how saddened and frustrated he was just knowing that there was nothing that could be done to save his co-worker that was the closest thing he had ever had to a friend before he had been taken from that hell. If Decimus completely understood him he didn’t say anything so Jonathan reached out to touch the ghost of his once friend, his fingers flinching at the initial cold of what should have been the man’s warm face. He wondered if Jason’s lover was aware of his passing and how well he was taking it. Maybe it would be better to let that man have the first shot at Guillaume. While Jon had been abused, he had ultimately been the one to take his own life… or at least try to. Jason had technically been murdered by the man.
The ghost sighed and smiled for him, a cold hand cupping his and sending an icy wave flowing over him. It was still a feather light touch and the vampire got the impression that if he pushed a little too hard against the other’s cheek his hand would fall right through. “It’s alright,” Jason was saying, “It’s not your fault. Michael and I weren’t ready for him. We should have been better prepared or at least called the cops on him when we still had the chance. I’m glad you are somewhere safe now with someone to take care of you.”
Jonathan nodded, moved by the words even if he didn’t know Jason that well in life and took his hand back, instinctively flexing the half frozen joints to make sure that he still had control over his fingers. The ghost of his friend smiled as he faded from sight, leaving no traces of his presence behind. The sweet metallic smell faded away with him and the chill of the room disappeared. Paeonius broke his charm over the sink and for a split second the room filled with the strong smell of whatever spices were used in the creation of it before the entire thing caught in flames and died.
The two older vampires turned toward him to watch his expression and Jonathan knew what they were looking for. He should be angry with Guillaume for killing his friend. He knew he should be. However, he was a victim of the man’s bat more than once. He knew from experience that unless Guy wanted to kill someone, he would be careful enough to only hit them in non-vital places. That meant that he had tried to kill Jason and probably the man’s lover with him. How could he be angry with the monster when the man had granted Jason what he had spent so many years praying for?
There was no anger in him as he got up from the table and retrieved a bottle of blood to drink, wanting to quench his thirst before anything else. Paeonius watched him warily but Decimus seemed to know better than to do so much as think to interfere. He only sighed and stayed where he was, sipping at the drink he had retrieved earlier. Jon had long since stopped wondering where the bottles of blood came from, suspecting that he really didn’t want to know the source. As happy as he was hunting, he knew it attracted attention. It was smarter to keep to the prepackaged stuff instead of trying to get fresh blood every night.
It wasn’t until he was done that Paeonius said something to Decimus in that odd language that they used whenever they didn’t want him to understand something and walked off, presumably to get his things to leave. If he had a human girlfriend, then it was high time he spend the night with her to keep up the pretence of being a normal human man who needed all kinds of loving to stay interested. Whoever she was, Jon noted privately, was a lucky woman indeed. It might have been just his limited experience or how disconnected he had been at the time, but it seemed to him that coupling with a vampire was an infinitely better experience than being with a normal, human man.
Decimus only turned to him when the doctor was gone, taking their now empty bottles and rinsing them out before leaving them in his dish rack to dry. He looked serious about something but what it was specifically Jon couldn’t readily decipher. It worried him a little but not enough to have him mention anything about it. He had only known the man for a few weeks, after all. For all he knew, Paeonius said something that struck a nerve with him about his past. There were so many centuries behind him that it wouldn’t be all that surprising if there was indeed a nerve that was struck. He waited for a reaction, some crack in that serious face but there was none. Instead there was just more pursing of lips and a cold look in his eye. He didn’t question the other when he made a “come with me” motion.
He followed the other man towards the basement, climbing down the stairs with a sense of unease as he went. He hadn’t been down here since he was changed so many weeks ago and while it didn’t frighten him, it did remind him that he had once been in such a bad place in his life the only way for him to survive was to be changed into the creature he was now. He was a little ashamed to have first thought himself a demon but considering where his mind had been when he had “died” he was not all that surprised now. He hoped, as he got to the bottom of the stairs and approached the room he had initially been locked in, that Guillaume hadn’t been changed like he was.
He stopped a good five feet from the door as Decimus opened it, his strong body easily pulling the heavy metal doorway open and revealing the small room inside. Even from here Jon could smell the burning torches and the human urine that reeked from the place. There was blood too but it was not as strong as it had been when he spoke with Jason’s ghost. He wondered why that was for a moment or two before he just chose to accept it and looked up at his lover and saw the man motioning for him to walk inside the room. He wanted to believe that he had misunderstood the request but knew better. It was a smarter idea to just play along rather than provoke anger from his fellow vampire. He had yet to meet Decimus’ bad side himself but from what little he has seen of it, he really doesn’t want to earn himself a face to face encounter with it.
So he walked into the room where he knew Guillaume was, keeping his head held high and chin up and proud, partly as a mask to hide his fear over the man and partly to appease the vampire within him who wanted revenge for what was done to him over all those years. He knew that if he thought about it, he would remember each and every wound and feel every inch of pain and hunger he had experienced over those years. Therefore he chose not to think about those times or linger on those memories.
Instead he focused on the present, on the sight of the man that, for so very long, taunted him and beat him, even going so far as to rape him that night. He was having trouble associating the man he saw before him now, cowering in chains and soaking his own clothes with urine, with that same monster. He supposed that if he were still the man he had been, still starved and in pain, he might feel the same fear but he didn’t. He couldn’t any more. It would take a lot more than what Guillaume had now to hurt him again.
The flames of the torches flickered and Jon looked towards the door to see Decimus step in, his face serious as he crossed his strong arms over his chest and looked at the terrified human. Guillaume didn’t seem to know which one of them to watch and fear more. The deaf vampire had to admit that it was thrilling to feel the power that came with provoking fear in someone who rightfully deserved to fear him, even if he had done nothing, as of yet to warrant that fear. He didn’t mind that much. To be honest he was afraid of letting the vampire within him loose. Who knew what it would want to do given the memories it had of the slim Frenchman watching them.
He saw Decimus’ lips moving as he spoke to Guillaume and concentrated just enough to keep up with the conversation. “It seems you have found yourself in quite a pickle now, Mister Chrestien,” Decimus was saying, his lips twisting oddly to no doubt pronounce the name properly, “as one of your victims has died this afternoon. Surely you can remember the young waiter friend of Jonathan’s that you beat near death with that bat of yours last night before you so foolishly decided to come after us?” The roman stepped closer and Jon had to shift to be able to keep his sight on his lover’s mouth. “Jason Price wasn’t exactly a friend of mine but I like him and I know that if I turned you lose right now, his lover, Michael, will definitely be hot on your tail to avenge him.”
Guy tried to put on a brave face and had he managed to keep control over his body he might have been able to manage it. As it was the fear showed a little too clearly in his eyes for Jon to completely believe the façade that was presented to him. He wondered if Decimus’ words were based on him knowing Michael well enough to be able to predict his actions or from a memory of a different time, a different place, where he had been in a similar situation and had done as he suggested Michael would to in response. Guillaume’s response was too badly enunciated for Jon to understand it completely but whatever it was happened to be enough to anger his lover to the point of violence.
Decimus surged forward and pinned Guillaume to the wall behind the bed with one hand wrapped tightly around the metal collar, the human’s head hitting the wall behind him hard enough to cause a bleed. Jonathan shifted uncomfortably in the smell, trying to keep track of the conversation but staying far enough back that the blood didn’t pull from him his humanity. The animal within was starting to stir hungrily. He needed to keep it at bay, at least until this conversation was over. Killing Guillaume would not make the memories stop, no matter how satisfying it was.
He stopped being able to see the conversation as there was his lover’s body in the way but he had long since stopped caring for it. He could feel something odd happening to him, something that he hadn’t felt before. He somehow knew that this was tied to his inhuman nature but how he wasn’t sure. Somehow the smell of human blood, coupled with the sight of his lover demonstrating his superior strength over another male, even if it was just a lowly mortal, excited him in ways he didn’t think it should. He had never liked being manhandled into things, which was not so odd considering his circumstances, but it seeing it happen to others, apparently, was arousing.
Eventually Decimus stepped away from the slimmer human, his anger apparent in his gestures, but he turned to Jonathan and, without the gentleness he was used to, pulled the smaller man into a possessive kiss. It was not a gentle kiss, not by any means. It was possessive and harsh and for just a moment he thought he would have a flashback to some of the other men who had kissed him in such a way and left him feeling more used than loved when they let him go. Now, however, the vampire inside him was pleased and indulged its mate in the kiss, letting the strong smell of the other wash over them while it marked them as his. Their hands came up and clung to that strong back and neck, trying to get them to kiss deeper, even while both men’s claws and fangs extended and their eyes became awash with crimson.
There must have been a snarky comment made by the human because one moment the kiss was deep and rich and perfect and the next Decimus was pulling away to look the young man over, pulling his attention away to address the lowly creature. The human in Jonathan was used to this but the vampire was not. It leaned in closer and started nipping at the roman’s neck, red eyes glaring at the still chained Guillaume. He could feel the rumble in the chest now pressed so tightly against his as his mate spoke but the older vampire’s mouth was too far out of sight for the deaf creature of the night to pick up on anything. Not that it mattered. All it wanted as the older male’s attention now.
The Decimus turned his head and nipped lightly at his cheek, the teeth too long for him to kiss the soft skin with closed lips. Neither of them minded too badly as the ancient roman used his claws to gently tear open his lover’s shirt and pull it from his body, revealing the healthy form that Guillaume hadn’t seen in years. If Jon noticed, he didn’t make a sound to indicate it, though he did moan when cool hands ran down his back and Decimus’ fangs brushed his neck. The vampire didn’t care that there was an audience, even if man might have.
There were more words being spoken, words that Decimus for the most part ignored in favor of showing off his healthy, willing mate to the other man’s eyes. He didn’t pull the pants from Jonathan’s body, which the human side of him was grateful for, but his clawed hands did squeeze his firm ass a few times to prove the point. The vampire was getting more and more annoyed by the distractions, even with the human blood acting as a sort of aphrodisiac by scent alone. Jonathan was starting to panic. He was losing all control over himself.
There was a change in the scent of the air that made him look over at the human, a smell that was different than the fear and urine he had smelt when walking it. There were still elements of the first two and while it was difficult to pin point beyond the heavy and delightful musk of his lover it was easily enough decipherable once he was able to pick up on it. So, seeing them together was enough to bring this human to their level did it? He knew he shouldn’t be surprised. As disgusted as Jon’s human side was with the thought of it, Guillaume had gotten off on similar things before involving him. The vampire was only mildly offended by the show though. It was as if he didn’t want to be seen by such unworthy eyes participating in so holy an act.
Decimus seemed to sense his distraction now but instead of being angry, pulled back with an amused smile. Jonathan could feel a wave of anger overcoming him but why he was so angry he could only hazard a guess. It was almost as if his beloved wanted him this angry for some reason and had coaxed him to it on purpose. His hypothesis was further proved with the man brought their mouths together and allowed their fangs to brush. It took a moment for the sharp teeth to retract and for Decimus to look human again, at least enough so to speak to him so he understood. “Avenge yourself,” he was saying, his grey eyes full of desire and need and the scent of his arousal remained strong, “take from this man what he took from you so long ago.” Decimus stepped away long enough to unchain Guillaume. “Attack.”