NaNoWriMo 2010 - True Love's Kiss [ 10 / 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
What exactly it was about watching Jonathan Grant move like a predator towards the human in full vampire form that was so alluring Decimus was fairly sure he would never know or even want to know. The way his dark hair fell about his hauntingly pale face and the redness of his once dark irises made him appear to be one of the blood thirsty nymphs of the gods of old. The added look of the long fangs and the dangerously sharp claws really didn’t help the image and while Decimus was certainly no true sadist, he couldn’t help but find the thought of such a beautiful figure doused in blood to be an erotic image indeed.
He watched as the sad, frightened human from earlier tried to run about the room and get to the door, his weakened human body no match for the strength of their kind. He didn’t help the man as he let his vampiric lover pounce on the sad figure, clawed hands holding him down by the wrists as he bent forward, letting his fangs brush the smooth skin without biting. The man’s whimpers and pleas were pleasing but they weren’t satisfying enough for him.
“Get him off me, please, just get him off,” Guy was whimpering, trying to fight with all his might against the man he had beaten and starved near the point of death and finding his efforts in vain, “I promise I’ll do anything! Anything at all! Just please get him off! Please let me go!” With each sentence the human became more and more desperate, as if realizing the reality of the situation he had found himself in. The stone walls were sound proof and the metal door assured that no one could easily come in and rescue him from his fate at their hands.
Decimus laughed at the human’s words, more than pleased with the result. “I’m afraid I can’t and won’t grant you even that much,” he said cruelly, stepping closer to see Jonathan’s nature keeping him from tearing the guy to shreds only because there was still one last scrap of that haunted victim still within him, watching, hesitant to take that last step. Decimus had known that if he hadn’t used the human blood and their mutual arousal to coax the vampire to the surface, Jon would have never gotten his proper revenge on the man alone. It would have been charming if circumstances were different. “It was not a mercy you ever granted him.”
Guillaume twisted more frantically, pulling a snarl of warning from the slim vampire that was holding him down with brute strength alone. If they were both human, they would have been more evenly matched but this was far from the case. Jonathan’s claws scrapped against the stone, leaving scratch marks in the stone itself but leaving his nails unharmed in any way. It was more proof of just how dangerous he was in this form, even when he was calm and not angry with a victim.
“I never knew what he wanted okay?” Guillaume tried again, looking at Decimus instead of the smaller vampire over him, “The bitch never once spoke to me. He seemed to like ignoring me, even if I was talking directly at him. The only way to get him to do stuff was to hit him and he didn’t seem to mind it too much. At least he never complained about it.” He tried to move his foot and was rewarded by a tightening grip on his thin and easily breakable wrists. The idiot didn’t know when to quit it seemed.
Decimus stepped closer, this time taking a seat next to the victim as Jon leaned back and waited for his word. The roman hadn’t met too many other vampire pairs but from what little he could remember of the ones he met, there was an instinct for the more submissive partner to follow all the orders of the older when in full vampire form and as such would prevent them from attacking one another. How it was the system was kept from being abused, he didn’t know but he was far from complaining about the mechanics.
“You were aware he was deaf when you first became lovers, human,” he said coolly, though he wanted to do nothing more than to spit on the pathetic man’s face, “though whether you knew of his history I don’t know. I hope for your sake you did not. If you did, then I’m afraid I’ll have to tell Jonathan to be a little less gentle with you than he would have been otherwise. I don’t take kindly to men who beat and violate their lovers.” The exception to this rule would have been the slaves he was so used to seeing in the old days but as slavery was outlawed in modern times, no one had that excuse for this kind of behavior anymore. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing yet. Someone people were simply too stupid or too barbaric to survive on their own without a firm hand to guide them.
Guillaume stayed still as he gathered his thoughts, ignoring the way Jonathan shifted his weight over him. Decimus could almost see the wheels turning in that feeble, mortal mind of his. It was almost funny how men of the law seemed to think themselves above it, no matter what century it was. “If I turn myself in would you be satisfied?” Guillaume asked with a deadly serious expression on his face, almost as if he was trying to make a deal with a demon, “if I admit to what I’ve done and claim Jonathan’s disappearance as a murder that I committed with you let me go? The law can’t punish me if I am dead and you guys can only kill me once without making me into one of you.” Guy looked Jon in the eye. “You really wouldn’t want that.”
Decimus stared at the human, thinking over his next words carefully. “You murdered a man in cold blood today and would have killed two more. You drove an abuse victim who endured twenty years of pain to take his own life after your violated him in his own home. If you didn’t turn yourself in before, why should I believe you would do so now?” His gaze didn’t falter but a cruel smile touched his face. “It might be a wiser idea to let the man you tortured decide for himself how you should be punished for your violent crimes.”
Gently the roman reached out to cup his young lover’s cheek, forcing those blood red eyes to look at him while avoiding cutting his hands on those long fangs. There was no trace of humanity in those eyes anymore but there was still a trace of a haunted look. What he was about to order him to do would chase away that haunted look and give the human side some sense of closure. At least he was fairly sure it would. In his own culture it was a common enough way to assuage the pain someone else had inflicted upon your person, regardless of your natural temperament. “Mangle him Jon,” Decimus told him sternly, “leave him begging for death.”
Jonathan’s lips pulled tightly over his fangs in some semblance of a grin and Decimus stepped back to watch what he knew would be an utter blood bath. Guillaume pissed himself again but this time it was with perfectly legitimate reason. Jonathan leaned back and looked over his claws, as if making sure they were sharp enough before grinning down at his soon to be victim. His eyes were those of a true monster, a creature who enjoyed bathing in blood.
Guillaume’s screams were music to his ears and his blood smelled so strongly as it splattered beautifully against the floor at the walls. The way the other tried to scratch at the vampire and fight him off was as funny as it was it was useless. All it did was enrage Jonathan further and give him good reason to dig his claws in further. Guy’s skin tore open further and blood splattered on Jonathan’s pale face and coated his elegant hands. To any other, he might have looked like a monster but to Decimus, who had spent so many lifetimes as a monster of his own, he looked more beautiful than that.
It took half an hour for the human to bleed out and during that time Jonathan’s animal side took special pleasure in making the man scream in absolute agony. The roman could see his beloved’s delight on his face and the arousal that flushed his normally bloodless features. Decimus could feel his own body flushing with arousal at the very sight of him, let alone with the smell of the human blood acting as an aphrodisiac. The disposal of the human’s body could wait until after they were done with their own private activities. After all, who knew how long Jon was going to stay in such a mood?
When Guillaume’s heart struggled through its final beat and his shredded lungs finally surrender to the pain, Decimus watched Jonathan lean down to brush his fangs against some of the blood that still pulsed through the still body, though he never directly tasted the blood. It wasn’t all that surprising a reaction. The vampire wanted to be sure that its victim had indeed died and for their kind, the best way to tell would be the smell of the blood itself. If they left a victim with even a little bit of life in him, there was a strong chance that they would change into something that was as human as a zombie or other resurrected corpse. The roman knew from experience that being so careless would attract hunters to them right away and that was the last thing they needed.
Apparently satisfied with the results he found, the younger vampire leaned back and stood up, his head tilting eerily to the side to look at Decimus. His red eyes matched the blood splatters on his lean cheeks and the stains on his fangs from where he had torn the man’s neck open at the end only emphasized the look. His dark hair framed his face and had flecks of blood in it but everything would be easily washed out later. Now there was the more important concern of the look of absolute lust in his expression. The roman’s senses became hyperfocused and the smells of the room grew stronger. This was not the time for hesitation.
“You’ve done well,” he said in praise of his lover, stepping closer to the smaller man and running his hand gently over the soft skin of his cheek, leaving behind trails of blood, “very well indeed. Do you feel as if you have earned yourself a reward?” It was hard to enunciate things properly through his fangs but what did get understood had Jon nodding and turning toward him, those bloody claws gently brushing over his clothes and leaving their own stains behind. Decimus found that he could care less. He wanted the clothes off anyway and Jonathan on his knees on the bed that rested so near to them and yet had never seemed further.
He smirked as he walked forward, leading the other man to step backwards using only the forward motion of his body and delighting in how automatically Jon followed such a minor lead in their personal dance. “Well then, let me see what I can come up with for an appropriate prize for you.” He shed his shirts as he walked, not caring about the pools of blood they fell into. He could always burn them later when he scrubbed this place clean of this human’s crimson life force. He pressed as close to a kiss as he could manage to his lover’s mouth and slowly undressed.
Their lovemaking this time was even less gentle than before, the instinct within Decimus to take from that beautiful body the pleasure he knew he could take from it too strong for him to fight. He didn’t outright rape the younger man but he wasn’t gentle as he prepared him for their coupling and some of the cries he coaxed from the younger man’s throat he could tell were not entirely pleasurable moans. He didn’t care. He doubted the vampire that was Jonathan cared much for it either. Their cries of pleasure echoed in the room that had once been filled with the screams of a dying man and neither of them seemed to care.
When their bodies were satiated, both men collapsed on the bed, allowing the smell of their sex mingle with the scent of the blood that was so recently spilt and dried slowly on the ground. Thankfully it would be a few days before the body started to smell but the sooner they got rid of it the better really. It was such a shame their kind only needed blood to survive. If they were true carnivores, Decimus would have gladly eaten the man just to avoid cleaning him off afterward. However, from what he had heard, consuming human flesh could make a vampire become more of a beast than a refined being and made them that much easier to hunt. They became more like werewolves at that point. Filthy animals.
Decimus wrapped his arms around Jonathan’s lightly dozing body and held him close so that the smaller man rested half on top of him with his head tucked into the crook of the ancient being’s neck. He could feel the gentle puffs of the other’s breath against his skin and the gentle cooling of his dead flesh beneath his hands. Soon that pulse that had been so strong and alive before would fade into the pulse of one of their kind and the blood would cease flowing once again. It had bothered him the first time he had taken one of his own kind to bed but over time he had come to find it a comfort. As long as the body so rapidly cooling against his chest had not been human when they started, he really didn’t mind this result.
He knew they would have to go back upstairs by the morning and that he would have to wash the blood from Jonathan’s skin before the vampire in him completely faded and he was left with his human self. The sight of blood for someone like him was not all that uncommon. His years as a soldier had hardened his human half against the image but for someone like Jon, who had endured so many years of violence and pain and felt his own blood spill to stain his skin far too many times to count, blood was a substance that only brought memories of his own pain rather than the satisfaction of killing.
The pair of them lay there for an hour to two, simply enjoying being wrapped in one another, though Jonathan’s sleep was a little deeper than Decimus’ thanks to his earlier slip into a true vampire’s frenzy. Neither of them heard the door to the cell being pulled open but Decimus did open his eyes at Paeonius’ scent, his face blank as the older vampire looked at the mess that had been left behind. “Gods damn it, Decimus,” the Greek hissed in their old Latin, leaning down to look over the human’s remains without actually getting his clothes bloody or his neat clothes soiled, “this is going to be a bitch a half to explain if he’s found. What exactly happened?”
Decimus didn’t move from where he laid other than turn his head to speak clearly. “You know how human blood affects the young ones,” he answered smoothly, unconcerned about waking up Jon with his words, “and the vampire was already riled up from the earlier interaction with the ghost… I didn’t so much as order him to do anything as encourage him. It didn’t take much in the way of an order to coax him to lose whatever control he might have had over his natural need to kill the man who stupidly taunted him so much.”
The medicus looked up with a dark look as he stood though he didn’t step closer. “You fool! You know as well as I do that once a young one tastes the blood of a human, they can’t return to feeding on animals. His face is covered in blood. If he hasn’t tasted a drop, it will be a miracle. Vampires that feed on humans are a liability we can’t afford. Hunters are attracted to true vampires as moths are pulled to flames.”
The roman frowned and tightened his hold around his still snoozing lover. “You’re making a lot of assumptions, Greek,” he growled in response, “most of which are unfounded and I certainly don’t like what you’re implying with those assumptions.” He supposed laying nude in a bed with a blood stained lover certainly didn’t give his word any real credence but he wasn’t about to dislodge the other from where he slept. However he was fairly sure that the Greek, while technically an older vampire, remembered how dangerous he was when crossed. “I suggest you take back your words and leave.”
Paeonius took no heed to his words. “You have until morning to get him cleaned up again and this body taken care of. I will not have hunters on our tail, especially now that we’ve settled in nicely. If you can’t manage these tasks, consider yourself completely on your own.” His expression shifted into a sneer and he looked ready to all but spit in Decimus’ direction. “I’m not about to risk my long life on the whims of a Roman and his latest pretty boy lover. If you want to put your lives in danger, feel free to.”
Jonathan stirred and clung to Decimus, as if sensing his growing agitation and anger. The roman’s hand brushed through the soft black hair he could reach, trying to soothe his love in the only way he really could given the fact he was still conversing with another person. “I will take care of it, Paeonius,” he answered through gritted human teeth but you will have to give us a few more moments to recover. Just because you don’t take the time to care for your girlfriend after you fuck her, doesn’t mean that I don’t.” It was a low blow and he knew it but right now the Roman didn’t particularly care about that. His friend and sire had insulted his lover. He deserved some insult for that.
Paeonius looked angry but said nothing more, turning on his heel and walking away from the corpse, making sure that he had not a trace of the poor sap’s blood on his clothes. “If you can’t keep your mind objective and your decisions unbiased, you might as well end everything here and now. To fall too hard for a child who may not be in his right mind anymore will be the end of you. If you won’t kill him when the time comes, then I will and I can guarantee that he will die a rather painful death.” He closed the door behind him as he left with a light pull on the heavy door that no human could move so easily. The heavy clang of it worked fairly effectively for ending the conversation.
A few more moments later Jonathan did stir against him and when his beautiful eyes opened, they were the dark eyes of his human self instead of the blood red of vampire. At first his smile was beatific and happy but as he came more awake he must have felt the stickiness he wasn’t used to. Decimus let him sit up and look at his own hands, expecting to see a faintly pleased look on his handsome face. Instead there was horror painting his features and fear and regret. His lean hands started shaking and he backed away even further from his lover, shaking his head in denial. He looked genuinely terrified and haunted.
Decimus sat up and reached out to touch him but Jon cowered from him, even going so far as to fall off the bed. He didn’t communicate anything with his hands but that was because they were shaking too badly. It frightened and saddened Decimus to see him in such a state. He reached out to the young man, wishing he could say something that would comfort him but knowing that his words would never be heard. He should have known better than to let Jonathan sleep will still drenched in the blood of his victim.
So he got dressed slowly, thinking of how he was going to help his lover overcome whatever it was that had driven him to retreat so far into himself. Washing the blood from him was inevitably going to be the first step but what would come after that, he wasn’t entirely sure. It wasn’t as if his lover could tell him what exactly was wrong and he didn’t look like he was in a state to take the time to make sure he could sign correctly, let alone handwrite anything. Leaving him alone could be dangerous with him in this state. Vampires were difficult to kill but that didn’t mean it was impossible for one to take its own life. He had saved Jon once, but there was no guarantee he could do it again.
Once he had gotten his clothes back on he carefully made his way to where Jon was curled against the fall wall of the room, whimpering and sobbing as tears spilled down his cheeks to leave tracks in the blood that stained his cheeks. He sounded so broken and looked so very lost in his own thoughts, his own memories of the horrors he had known. Decimus was starting to regret bringing the vampire within him to the forefront to exact his revenge on the latest man who abused him so ruthlessly.
“Jonathan?” he said as he approached, knowing he wouldn’t be heard but saying it for his own comfort as his hand gently brushed the young man’s soft, cool skin, “Jonathan, my love, it’s alright. Whatever it is, it’s alright.” Jon didn’t look at him but Decimus didn’t expect him to look without a touch to his cheek. Instead he curled up around the young man again, holding him close to his chest as the smaller body shivered and wept against him. He told him again and again that he would be alright, that everything was going to turn out to be okay, even if those words couldn’t be heard.
It took more effort than he wanted to admit to gather Jon in his arms and carry him upstairs to the bathroom where he carefully drew a bath that was neither too warm for their kind nor too cold for their still most human systems. The amount of coaxing it took to get him into the bath itself was perturbing, as was his lack of even so much as a flinch when Decimus ran a soaked facecloth over his body to clean each and every fleck of blood from his skin. Jon didn’t react to a single touch nor did his eyes focus on anything he said. If he noticed anything that was being said, he didn’t show it.
By the time he was done, he could feel the sunrise quickly approaching and with it the need to clothe or generally cover Jon in order to take him back to their room. The sunlight wouldn’t be all that strong but there was no point in risking him now. He gently caught Jon’s chin and turned his head so that their eyes could meet, even if Jon’s were empty and disturbingly unfocused. “I’ll be right back,” he said quietly, “Just stay where you are, love. I’ll be right back.”
He left the room for just a few moments to gather a set of Jon’s clothes but even during that time he could feel that something was wrong. No vampire that he knew of broke so easily just at the sight of blood but Jonathan had. Something was different about him, different than all the other vampires he had ever met. Was it because he was changed unwillingly? Was it due to his handicap? Or maybe it was because of his state of mind when he was forced to change?
He had just gathered the last piece of clothing when his nose picked up the smell of coagulated human blood coming from the bathroom. A flash of panic ran through him. It was rare that a vampire’s blood was spilled but its smell was so unique and rare that it was easy to pick up on. Judging by the potency of the smell, there was quite a bit of blood being spilled; dangerous amounts of blood. “Jonathan!” He cursed himself for being so stupid. His lover was far too unstable to be left by himself.
He raced toward the bathroom, expecting to find Jonathan still in the bathtub where he had left him but there was no trace of his presence in the room now except for a thick trail of vampire’s blood that tracked out of the room and down the hallway toward the stairs. The sunlight was fast approaching. Paeonius would be home soon. He needed to find his beloved before he did something even more foolish, such as stand in the bright morning sunlight and allow himself to go up in flames. If there was one thing he couldn’t deal with, it was knowing that he was the one who drove this young man to take his life a second time.
The blood trail led to the open air living room where the first beams of the sunlight started to pour through the windows and highlighted his beloved’s far too pale skin. One of his thin arms was wrapped around his stomach where he had torn it apart with his sharp claws, his arm the only thing keeping his entrails inside him. Blood tainted his lips and his dark eyes were glassier than they should have been. His thin knees were trembling and he looked ready to collapse at any moment. Decimus didn’t need to be a medical man to know that Jon might not last until the sun’s strong beams burned him through.
He stepped closer and reached out to his haunted lover, feeling sick as Jon turned his eyes on him in such a sad and lost way.”Jon, Jonathan my love, what have you done?” he asked quietly, his hand going to the other’s torn abdomen to help him hold in his internal organs. He was too weak now for the vampire to try and heal his wounds and the vampire himself seemed lost as to why this was. “Why are you doing this to yourself? To me?”
Jonathan raised one hand and began his sign, his blood stained hand trembling as he did so. Decimus barely understood him but what he did understand made his guilt and horror double in his chest. His lover could not stand the thought of having hurt another as he had been hurt; making a man scream as he had spent so many years screaming both out loud and in his own mind. He could not let himself live with the knowledge of what he had become.
His knees buckled then and Decimus knelt with him, cradling his dying, broken lover to his chest as he listened to the younger man’s pain filled struggle for every breath. “But Jon, he deserved his punishment. He deserved to suffer for every inch of pain he caused you and he did.” He carded his hand through Jon’s black hair, brushing it away from his sweat-soaked brow. “You have avenged yourself against him and have even granted him a mercy he never once granted you. There is no need to do this to yourself my love.”
Jon’s thin lips parted and a choked laugh escaped him. It seemed to rob him of whatever breath he had left in his weary lungs. He raised his hand to try and communicate but his fingers shook too hard to get whatever words he wanted to form to take their shape. Decimus instead caught the smaller hand and gently pressed it against his cheek, trying to hold onto his beloved a moment longer, even as the sun got stronger as it rose higher in the sky. Being older than Jon meant he could tolerate a little stronger sunlight but even he could not stand direct sunlight.
Decimus looked over to the windows, growling as the light crawled towards them. He tried to crawl away and take the broken body with him however the dead weight of his boyfriend kept him from getting far. Jon shifted his thin leg so that it would remain in the sunlight by the time the sun reached nine o’clock in the morning. Whatever pain he felt now, he clearly wanted to endure more for his twisted form of self punishment. However, being unable to inflict it on himself through the use of the vampire’s claws to shred the remains of his own skin, he clearly had to find other means.
The smell of Jon’s blood had covered up the smell of the encroaching hunters and their dogs until the front door burst open and the entire party stormed into the house. They turned and leveled their guns with cold expressions on their faces, the dogs growling loudly and ready to attack at the slightest command. Decimus looked over to them as Jonathan’s aching lungs drew their last breath. At least, Decimus thought, as the bullets pierced, Jon had known at least one 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
What exactly it was about watching Jonathan Grant move like a predator towards the human in full vampire form that was so alluring Decimus was fairly sure he would never know or even want to know. The way his dark hair fell about his hauntingly pale face and the redness of his once dark irises made him appear to be one of the blood thirsty nymphs of the gods of old. The added look of the long fangs and the dangerously sharp claws really didn’t help the image and while Decimus was certainly no true sadist, he couldn’t help but find the thought of such a beautiful figure doused in blood to be an erotic image indeed.
He watched as the sad, frightened human from earlier tried to run about the room and get to the door, his weakened human body no match for the strength of their kind. He didn’t help the man as he let his vampiric lover pounce on the sad figure, clawed hands holding him down by the wrists as he bent forward, letting his fangs brush the smooth skin without biting. The man’s whimpers and pleas were pleasing but they weren’t satisfying enough for him.
“Get him off me, please, just get him off,” Guy was whimpering, trying to fight with all his might against the man he had beaten and starved near the point of death and finding his efforts in vain, “I promise I’ll do anything! Anything at all! Just please get him off! Please let me go!” With each sentence the human became more and more desperate, as if realizing the reality of the situation he had found himself in. The stone walls were sound proof and the metal door assured that no one could easily come in and rescue him from his fate at their hands.
Decimus laughed at the human’s words, more than pleased with the result. “I’m afraid I can’t and won’t grant you even that much,” he said cruelly, stepping closer to see Jonathan’s nature keeping him from tearing the guy to shreds only because there was still one last scrap of that haunted victim still within him, watching, hesitant to take that last step. Decimus had known that if he hadn’t used the human blood and their mutual arousal to coax the vampire to the surface, Jon would have never gotten his proper revenge on the man alone. It would have been charming if circumstances were different. “It was not a mercy you ever granted him.”
Guillaume twisted more frantically, pulling a snarl of warning from the slim vampire that was holding him down with brute strength alone. If they were both human, they would have been more evenly matched but this was far from the case. Jonathan’s claws scrapped against the stone, leaving scratch marks in the stone itself but leaving his nails unharmed in any way. It was more proof of just how dangerous he was in this form, even when he was calm and not angry with a victim.
“I never knew what he wanted okay?” Guillaume tried again, looking at Decimus instead of the smaller vampire over him, “The bitch never once spoke to me. He seemed to like ignoring me, even if I was talking directly at him. The only way to get him to do stuff was to hit him and he didn’t seem to mind it too much. At least he never complained about it.” He tried to move his foot and was rewarded by a tightening grip on his thin and easily breakable wrists. The idiot didn’t know when to quit it seemed.
Decimus stepped closer, this time taking a seat next to the victim as Jon leaned back and waited for his word. The roman hadn’t met too many other vampire pairs but from what little he could remember of the ones he met, there was an instinct for the more submissive partner to follow all the orders of the older when in full vampire form and as such would prevent them from attacking one another. How it was the system was kept from being abused, he didn’t know but he was far from complaining about the mechanics.
“You were aware he was deaf when you first became lovers, human,” he said coolly, though he wanted to do nothing more than to spit on the pathetic man’s face, “though whether you knew of his history I don’t know. I hope for your sake you did not. If you did, then I’m afraid I’ll have to tell Jonathan to be a little less gentle with you than he would have been otherwise. I don’t take kindly to men who beat and violate their lovers.” The exception to this rule would have been the slaves he was so used to seeing in the old days but as slavery was outlawed in modern times, no one had that excuse for this kind of behavior anymore. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing yet. Someone people were simply too stupid or too barbaric to survive on their own without a firm hand to guide them.
Guillaume stayed still as he gathered his thoughts, ignoring the way Jonathan shifted his weight over him. Decimus could almost see the wheels turning in that feeble, mortal mind of his. It was almost funny how men of the law seemed to think themselves above it, no matter what century it was. “If I turn myself in would you be satisfied?” Guillaume asked with a deadly serious expression on his face, almost as if he was trying to make a deal with a demon, “if I admit to what I’ve done and claim Jonathan’s disappearance as a murder that I committed with you let me go? The law can’t punish me if I am dead and you guys can only kill me once without making me into one of you.” Guy looked Jon in the eye. “You really wouldn’t want that.”
Decimus stared at the human, thinking over his next words carefully. “You murdered a man in cold blood today and would have killed two more. You drove an abuse victim who endured twenty years of pain to take his own life after your violated him in his own home. If you didn’t turn yourself in before, why should I believe you would do so now?” His gaze didn’t falter but a cruel smile touched his face. “It might be a wiser idea to let the man you tortured decide for himself how you should be punished for your violent crimes.”
Gently the roman reached out to cup his young lover’s cheek, forcing those blood red eyes to look at him while avoiding cutting his hands on those long fangs. There was no trace of humanity in those eyes anymore but there was still a trace of a haunted look. What he was about to order him to do would chase away that haunted look and give the human side some sense of closure. At least he was fairly sure it would. In his own culture it was a common enough way to assuage the pain someone else had inflicted upon your person, regardless of your natural temperament. “Mangle him Jon,” Decimus told him sternly, “leave him begging for death.”
Jonathan’s lips pulled tightly over his fangs in some semblance of a grin and Decimus stepped back to watch what he knew would be an utter blood bath. Guillaume pissed himself again but this time it was with perfectly legitimate reason. Jonathan leaned back and looked over his claws, as if making sure they were sharp enough before grinning down at his soon to be victim. His eyes were those of a true monster, a creature who enjoyed bathing in blood.
Guillaume’s screams were music to his ears and his blood smelled so strongly as it splattered beautifully against the floor at the walls. The way the other tried to scratch at the vampire and fight him off was as funny as it was it was useless. All it did was enrage Jonathan further and give him good reason to dig his claws in further. Guy’s skin tore open further and blood splattered on Jonathan’s pale face and coated his elegant hands. To any other, he might have looked like a monster but to Decimus, who had spent so many lifetimes as a monster of his own, he looked more beautiful than that.
It took half an hour for the human to bleed out and during that time Jonathan’s animal side took special pleasure in making the man scream in absolute agony. The roman could see his beloved’s delight on his face and the arousal that flushed his normally bloodless features. Decimus could feel his own body flushing with arousal at the very sight of him, let alone with the smell of the human blood acting as an aphrodisiac. The disposal of the human’s body could wait until after they were done with their own private activities. After all, who knew how long Jon was going to stay in such a mood?
When Guillaume’s heart struggled through its final beat and his shredded lungs finally surrender to the pain, Decimus watched Jonathan lean down to brush his fangs against some of the blood that still pulsed through the still body, though he never directly tasted the blood. It wasn’t all that surprising a reaction. The vampire wanted to be sure that its victim had indeed died and for their kind, the best way to tell would be the smell of the blood itself. If they left a victim with even a little bit of life in him, there was a strong chance that they would change into something that was as human as a zombie or other resurrected corpse. The roman knew from experience that being so careless would attract hunters to them right away and that was the last thing they needed.
Apparently satisfied with the results he found, the younger vampire leaned back and stood up, his head tilting eerily to the side to look at Decimus. His red eyes matched the blood splatters on his lean cheeks and the stains on his fangs from where he had torn the man’s neck open at the end only emphasized the look. His dark hair framed his face and had flecks of blood in it but everything would be easily washed out later. Now there was the more important concern of the look of absolute lust in his expression. The roman’s senses became hyperfocused and the smells of the room grew stronger. This was not the time for hesitation.
“You’ve done well,” he said in praise of his lover, stepping closer to the smaller man and running his hand gently over the soft skin of his cheek, leaving behind trails of blood, “very well indeed. Do you feel as if you have earned yourself a reward?” It was hard to enunciate things properly through his fangs but what did get understood had Jon nodding and turning toward him, those bloody claws gently brushing over his clothes and leaving their own stains behind. Decimus found that he could care less. He wanted the clothes off anyway and Jonathan on his knees on the bed that rested so near to them and yet had never seemed further.
He smirked as he walked forward, leading the other man to step backwards using only the forward motion of his body and delighting in how automatically Jon followed such a minor lead in their personal dance. “Well then, let me see what I can come up with for an appropriate prize for you.” He shed his shirts as he walked, not caring about the pools of blood they fell into. He could always burn them later when he scrubbed this place clean of this human’s crimson life force. He pressed as close to a kiss as he could manage to his lover’s mouth and slowly undressed.
Their lovemaking this time was even less gentle than before, the instinct within Decimus to take from that beautiful body the pleasure he knew he could take from it too strong for him to fight. He didn’t outright rape the younger man but he wasn’t gentle as he prepared him for their coupling and some of the cries he coaxed from the younger man’s throat he could tell were not entirely pleasurable moans. He didn’t care. He doubted the vampire that was Jonathan cared much for it either. Their cries of pleasure echoed in the room that had once been filled with the screams of a dying man and neither of them seemed to care.
When their bodies were satiated, both men collapsed on the bed, allowing the smell of their sex mingle with the scent of the blood that was so recently spilt and dried slowly on the ground. Thankfully it would be a few days before the body started to smell but the sooner they got rid of it the better really. It was such a shame their kind only needed blood to survive. If they were true carnivores, Decimus would have gladly eaten the man just to avoid cleaning him off afterward. However, from what he had heard, consuming human flesh could make a vampire become more of a beast than a refined being and made them that much easier to hunt. They became more like werewolves at that point. Filthy animals.
Decimus wrapped his arms around Jonathan’s lightly dozing body and held him close so that the smaller man rested half on top of him with his head tucked into the crook of the ancient being’s neck. He could feel the gentle puffs of the other’s breath against his skin and the gentle cooling of his dead flesh beneath his hands. Soon that pulse that had been so strong and alive before would fade into the pulse of one of their kind and the blood would cease flowing once again. It had bothered him the first time he had taken one of his own kind to bed but over time he had come to find it a comfort. As long as the body so rapidly cooling against his chest had not been human when they started, he really didn’t mind this result.
He knew they would have to go back upstairs by the morning and that he would have to wash the blood from Jonathan’s skin before the vampire in him completely faded and he was left with his human self. The sight of blood for someone like him was not all that uncommon. His years as a soldier had hardened his human half against the image but for someone like Jon, who had endured so many years of violence and pain and felt his own blood spill to stain his skin far too many times to count, blood was a substance that only brought memories of his own pain rather than the satisfaction of killing.
The pair of them lay there for an hour to two, simply enjoying being wrapped in one another, though Jonathan’s sleep was a little deeper than Decimus’ thanks to his earlier slip into a true vampire’s frenzy. Neither of them heard the door to the cell being pulled open but Decimus did open his eyes at Paeonius’ scent, his face blank as the older vampire looked at the mess that had been left behind. “Gods damn it, Decimus,” the Greek hissed in their old Latin, leaning down to look over the human’s remains without actually getting his clothes bloody or his neat clothes soiled, “this is going to be a bitch a half to explain if he’s found. What exactly happened?”
Decimus didn’t move from where he laid other than turn his head to speak clearly. “You know how human blood affects the young ones,” he answered smoothly, unconcerned about waking up Jon with his words, “and the vampire was already riled up from the earlier interaction with the ghost… I didn’t so much as order him to do anything as encourage him. It didn’t take much in the way of an order to coax him to lose whatever control he might have had over his natural need to kill the man who stupidly taunted him so much.”
The medicus looked up with a dark look as he stood though he didn’t step closer. “You fool! You know as well as I do that once a young one tastes the blood of a human, they can’t return to feeding on animals. His face is covered in blood. If he hasn’t tasted a drop, it will be a miracle. Vampires that feed on humans are a liability we can’t afford. Hunters are attracted to true vampires as moths are pulled to flames.”
The roman frowned and tightened his hold around his still snoozing lover. “You’re making a lot of assumptions, Greek,” he growled in response, “most of which are unfounded and I certainly don’t like what you’re implying with those assumptions.” He supposed laying nude in a bed with a blood stained lover certainly didn’t give his word any real credence but he wasn’t about to dislodge the other from where he slept. However he was fairly sure that the Greek, while technically an older vampire, remembered how dangerous he was when crossed. “I suggest you take back your words and leave.”
Paeonius took no heed to his words. “You have until morning to get him cleaned up again and this body taken care of. I will not have hunters on our tail, especially now that we’ve settled in nicely. If you can’t manage these tasks, consider yourself completely on your own.” His expression shifted into a sneer and he looked ready to all but spit in Decimus’ direction. “I’m not about to risk my long life on the whims of a Roman and his latest pretty boy lover. If you want to put your lives in danger, feel free to.”
Jonathan stirred and clung to Decimus, as if sensing his growing agitation and anger. The roman’s hand brushed through the soft black hair he could reach, trying to soothe his love in the only way he really could given the fact he was still conversing with another person. “I will take care of it, Paeonius,” he answered through gritted human teeth but you will have to give us a few more moments to recover. Just because you don’t take the time to care for your girlfriend after you fuck her, doesn’t mean that I don’t.” It was a low blow and he knew it but right now the Roman didn’t particularly care about that. His friend and sire had insulted his lover. He deserved some insult for that.
Paeonius looked angry but said nothing more, turning on his heel and walking away from the corpse, making sure that he had not a trace of the poor sap’s blood on his clothes. “If you can’t keep your mind objective and your decisions unbiased, you might as well end everything here and now. To fall too hard for a child who may not be in his right mind anymore will be the end of you. If you won’t kill him when the time comes, then I will and I can guarantee that he will die a rather painful death.” He closed the door behind him as he left with a light pull on the heavy door that no human could move so easily. The heavy clang of it worked fairly effectively for ending the conversation.
A few more moments later Jonathan did stir against him and when his beautiful eyes opened, they were the dark eyes of his human self instead of the blood red of vampire. At first his smile was beatific and happy but as he came more awake he must have felt the stickiness he wasn’t used to. Decimus let him sit up and look at his own hands, expecting to see a faintly pleased look on his handsome face. Instead there was horror painting his features and fear and regret. His lean hands started shaking and he backed away even further from his lover, shaking his head in denial. He looked genuinely terrified and haunted.
Decimus sat up and reached out to touch him but Jon cowered from him, even going so far as to fall off the bed. He didn’t communicate anything with his hands but that was because they were shaking too badly. It frightened and saddened Decimus to see him in such a state. He reached out to the young man, wishing he could say something that would comfort him but knowing that his words would never be heard. He should have known better than to let Jonathan sleep will still drenched in the blood of his victim.
So he got dressed slowly, thinking of how he was going to help his lover overcome whatever it was that had driven him to retreat so far into himself. Washing the blood from him was inevitably going to be the first step but what would come after that, he wasn’t entirely sure. It wasn’t as if his lover could tell him what exactly was wrong and he didn’t look like he was in a state to take the time to make sure he could sign correctly, let alone handwrite anything. Leaving him alone could be dangerous with him in this state. Vampires were difficult to kill but that didn’t mean it was impossible for one to take its own life. He had saved Jon once, but there was no guarantee he could do it again.
Once he had gotten his clothes back on he carefully made his way to where Jon was curled against the fall wall of the room, whimpering and sobbing as tears spilled down his cheeks to leave tracks in the blood that stained his cheeks. He sounded so broken and looked so very lost in his own thoughts, his own memories of the horrors he had known. Decimus was starting to regret bringing the vampire within him to the forefront to exact his revenge on the latest man who abused him so ruthlessly.
“Jonathan?” he said as he approached, knowing he wouldn’t be heard but saying it for his own comfort as his hand gently brushed the young man’s soft, cool skin, “Jonathan, my love, it’s alright. Whatever it is, it’s alright.” Jon didn’t look at him but Decimus didn’t expect him to look without a touch to his cheek. Instead he curled up around the young man again, holding him close to his chest as the smaller body shivered and wept against him. He told him again and again that he would be alright, that everything was going to turn out to be okay, even if those words couldn’t be heard.
It took more effort than he wanted to admit to gather Jon in his arms and carry him upstairs to the bathroom where he carefully drew a bath that was neither too warm for their kind nor too cold for their still most human systems. The amount of coaxing it took to get him into the bath itself was perturbing, as was his lack of even so much as a flinch when Decimus ran a soaked facecloth over his body to clean each and every fleck of blood from his skin. Jon didn’t react to a single touch nor did his eyes focus on anything he said. If he noticed anything that was being said, he didn’t show it.
By the time he was done, he could feel the sunrise quickly approaching and with it the need to clothe or generally cover Jon in order to take him back to their room. The sunlight wouldn’t be all that strong but there was no point in risking him now. He gently caught Jon’s chin and turned his head so that their eyes could meet, even if Jon’s were empty and disturbingly unfocused. “I’ll be right back,” he said quietly, “Just stay where you are, love. I’ll be right back.”
He left the room for just a few moments to gather a set of Jon’s clothes but even during that time he could feel that something was wrong. No vampire that he knew of broke so easily just at the sight of blood but Jonathan had. Something was different about him, different than all the other vampires he had ever met. Was it because he was changed unwillingly? Was it due to his handicap? Or maybe it was because of his state of mind when he was forced to change?
He had just gathered the last piece of clothing when his nose picked up the smell of coagulated human blood coming from the bathroom. A flash of panic ran through him. It was rare that a vampire’s blood was spilled but its smell was so unique and rare that it was easy to pick up on. Judging by the potency of the smell, there was quite a bit of blood being spilled; dangerous amounts of blood. “Jonathan!” He cursed himself for being so stupid. His lover was far too unstable to be left by himself.
He raced toward the bathroom, expecting to find Jonathan still in the bathtub where he had left him but there was no trace of his presence in the room now except for a thick trail of vampire’s blood that tracked out of the room and down the hallway toward the stairs. The sunlight was fast approaching. Paeonius would be home soon. He needed to find his beloved before he did something even more foolish, such as stand in the bright morning sunlight and allow himself to go up in flames. If there was one thing he couldn’t deal with, it was knowing that he was the one who drove this young man to take his life a second time.
The blood trail led to the open air living room where the first beams of the sunlight started to pour through the windows and highlighted his beloved’s far too pale skin. One of his thin arms was wrapped around his stomach where he had torn it apart with his sharp claws, his arm the only thing keeping his entrails inside him. Blood tainted his lips and his dark eyes were glassier than they should have been. His thin knees were trembling and he looked ready to collapse at any moment. Decimus didn’t need to be a medical man to know that Jon might not last until the sun’s strong beams burned him through.
He stepped closer and reached out to his haunted lover, feeling sick as Jon turned his eyes on him in such a sad and lost way.”Jon, Jonathan my love, what have you done?” he asked quietly, his hand going to the other’s torn abdomen to help him hold in his internal organs. He was too weak now for the vampire to try and heal his wounds and the vampire himself seemed lost as to why this was. “Why are you doing this to yourself? To me?”
Jonathan raised one hand and began his sign, his blood stained hand trembling as he did so. Decimus barely understood him but what he did understand made his guilt and horror double in his chest. His lover could not stand the thought of having hurt another as he had been hurt; making a man scream as he had spent so many years screaming both out loud and in his own mind. He could not let himself live with the knowledge of what he had become.
His knees buckled then and Decimus knelt with him, cradling his dying, broken lover to his chest as he listened to the younger man’s pain filled struggle for every breath. “But Jon, he deserved his punishment. He deserved to suffer for every inch of pain he caused you and he did.” He carded his hand through Jon’s black hair, brushing it away from his sweat-soaked brow. “You have avenged yourself against him and have even granted him a mercy he never once granted you. There is no need to do this to yourself my love.”
Jon’s thin lips parted and a choked laugh escaped him. It seemed to rob him of whatever breath he had left in his weary lungs. He raised his hand to try and communicate but his fingers shook too hard to get whatever words he wanted to form to take their shape. Decimus instead caught the smaller hand and gently pressed it against his cheek, trying to hold onto his beloved a moment longer, even as the sun got stronger as it rose higher in the sky. Being older than Jon meant he could tolerate a little stronger sunlight but even he could not stand direct sunlight.
Decimus looked over to the windows, growling as the light crawled towards them. He tried to crawl away and take the broken body with him however the dead weight of his boyfriend kept him from getting far. Jon shifted his thin leg so that it would remain in the sunlight by the time the sun reached nine o’clock in the morning. Whatever pain he felt now, he clearly wanted to endure more for his twisted form of self punishment. However, being unable to inflict it on himself through the use of the vampire’s claws to shred the remains of his own skin, he clearly had to find other means.
The smell of Jon’s blood had covered up the smell of the encroaching hunters and their dogs until the front door burst open and the entire party stormed into the house. They turned and leveled their guns with cold expressions on their faces, the dogs growling loudly and ready to attack at the slightest command. Decimus looked over to them as Jonathan’s aching lungs drew their last breath. At least, Decimus thought, as the bullets pierced, Jon had known at least one true love’s kiss.