[Supernatural] "First Kill is a Tough One" (PG-13)
Written for comment_fic's "Supernatural; Vampire Alpha/Dean; he's gorged himself on too much blood, but Father is there to soothe him."
Dean's first kill on his own -- two teenagers necking in a parked car on an lonely stretch of highway: how cliche can you get? -- and he'd been so hungry, he'd drained the bodies then and there instead of summoning the rest of the nest to feed. He leaned back against the wheel well of the car groaning, his belly swollen out like an overripe melon. "Ugh, Twihards oughtta see what it's really like to be a vamp," he muttered, looking down at himself, surprised that he could hold that much. "Ain't all sparkles and stalking pretty chicks who come on to you."
He smelled something approaching, and looked up into Boris's broad face as his sire knelt over him.
"Had your fill, son?" he asked.
"More than my share," Dean groaned, holding his swollen sides.
"It happens, don't sweat it. Your first kill on your own when you've only been turned for a few days is always the tough one: you're young and hungry and still growing," Boris said, reassuring him. "It's easy to overdo it."
"Take it you know what it's like," Dean groaned.
"Yeah, found a frat party," Boris admitted, sucking air in through his teeth and shaking his head. "I didn't think I would move for a week. The hard part is sleeping it off: the sun will be rising in a few hours." He held out a hand to Dean. "Let's get you back to the nest."
"If I can move," Dean grunted, taking his sire's hand and letting him help him to his feet before draping an arm over his broad shoulders.
Dean's first kill on his own -- two teenagers necking in a parked car on an lonely stretch of highway: how cliche can you get? -- and he'd been so hungry, he'd drained the bodies then and there instead of summoning the rest of the nest to feed. He leaned back against the wheel well of the car groaning, his belly swollen out like an overripe melon. "Ugh, Twihards oughtta see what it's really like to be a vamp," he muttered, looking down at himself, surprised that he could hold that much. "Ain't all sparkles and stalking pretty chicks who come on to you."
He smelled something approaching, and looked up into Boris's broad face as his sire knelt over him.
"Had your fill, son?" he asked.
"More than my share," Dean groaned, holding his swollen sides.
"It happens, don't sweat it. Your first kill on your own when you've only been turned for a few days is always the tough one: you're young and hungry and still growing," Boris said, reassuring him. "It's easy to overdo it."
"Take it you know what it's like," Dean groaned.
"Yeah, found a frat party," Boris admitted, sucking air in through his teeth and shaking his head. "I didn't think I would move for a week. The hard part is sleeping it off: the sun will be rising in a few hours." He held out a hand to Dean. "Let's get you back to the nest."
"If I can move," Dean grunted, taking his sire's hand and letting him help him to his feet before draping an arm over his broad shoulders.