Anything At All
Back again with more Conrad/Worth/Lamont smut! (Which I've decided to call ConWorthMont. To simplify things, you see.) I posted this in smaller sections on y!Gallery as I wrote it, but waited to post it here when it was completely finished. (Because of how lazy I am.)
Ummm, buh, let's see, what to say about this one? I liked the thought of each one of the characters getting something they felt they needed, hence the title. I also happen to like things that make Conrad furious and Doc Worth treat people horribly, so there's always that as well... Anyways, hope you all enjoy!
Anything At All Pt I (with Pt II to follow promptly!)
Characters: Worth/Lamont/Conrad
Rating: This section? Um, PG-13 for language. ("R" if you're offended by a lot of cussing!)
Synopsis: A not so quick look into a night with the boys to see how their relationship convenient arrangement is progressing. (Or, Conrad kicks shit, feels fat and screams while Lamont proves for a bazillionth time to be the most awesome thing in the room. With bacon.)
Slam!
Conrad knew, he did, that he should never have expected better of the pathetic excuse of a human being.
Crash!
Even found Worth’s inherently despicable nature somewhat endearing, given the right circumstance.
Clang!
It’s just that, things had been so nice the last few weeks. He wouldn’t go so far as to call the quack doctor’s attitude sweet, but there had been a certain, lack of asshattery since the vampire had taken up with both the slouching, chain-smoking blond and solid, even-tempered Lamont Toucey. The three had quickly fallen into an easy pattern; Conrad would show up at Worth’s decrepit clinic every couple days or so. He’d shoot Lamont a quick text message en route to stop by after his last delivery if the man felt so inclined (which so far, seemed to always be the case). Conrad and the doctor would bicker good naturedly while waiting for their raven-haired compatriot, interspersing the verbal sparring with light snacks of freshly oozed Worth-blood. Then Lamont would arrive and the three would spend the rest of the night tangled together on Worth’s mattress, a mess of sweaty limbs, blood-filled kisses and need.
Thud!
Until tonight, apparently. It felt almost like a slap in the face after such a long stretch of relative peace. Conrad got the feeling that sometimes, Worth couldn’t help but reach out and punch things, be it with his fists or words. The man seemed to know exactly what to say to find the gaping chinks in the vampire’s inner armor. Yes, he had noticed he’d been putting on weight lately. And seriously, what the fuck? He had yet to see any sort of benefit to this whole vampirism thing. You’d think there’d be a silver lining somewhere in all this.
Wham!
Sometimes the doctor seemed to have a sixth sense of what to say to dig his dirty, yellowed fingernails into Conrad’s neuroses and twist. The sad fact was even death wasn’t enough for the young man to overcome his body-image issues. So it just figured, didn’t it, that what started as an off-handed comment (“Oh hey, Connie, nobody t’ld me muffin tops were back in style, must’ve missed th’ memo,”) turned into a long string of verbal abuse that Conrad had simply been unprepared for.
Crash!
Which led to his current state, clattering angrily around Worth’s kitchen, waging war with the doctor’s seemingly lifeless stove.
“You fucking piece of shit why won’t you just work already???” he yelled at the offending appliance, red faced and furious. He lashed out with a pointy-toed shoe, kicking it in the side, denting it. He wasn’t sure where Worth had gone. The doctor had snarled something near unintelligible (something to do with the vampire being “a prissy fagged-out bitch”) after Conrad had started screaming at him. The blond’s half-smoked cigarette had smoldered between his sneering lips has he poured out verbal abuse, heavy and thick, before storming out into the night to leave the raging vampire alone in the dingy clinic. That had been half an hour ago at least, and Conrad’s efforts to calm himself with a little culinary therapy had been thwarted by the joke that was the practitioners grease covered, lopsided, notfuckingworking stove. The vampire thought of leaving, but he’d already texted Lamont that he’d be here and wasn’t sure how often the man checked his messages. He was due any moment and Conrad would hate to be rude and leave his friend hanging.
So instead, he went back to fiddling with the stove, jiggling the dials, searching hopefully for some sign of the gas kicking on, a spark of life.
“Gyyyyyyaaaaaaaaahhhhhhrrrrrraaaaaahhhhhh!!!!” he screamed wordlessly, throwing his clenching hands up in frustration when his latest efforts produced no results. “For fuck’s sake you miserable piece of hardware!!! You have just one function in this world and it is to cook things!!! SO WHY AREN’T YOU DOING THAT???”
“Conrad?”
The vampire turned around snarling, no doubt looking positively beastly if Lamont’s reaction was any indication.
“Eheheheh, woah there, heheh,” the delivery man said, snickering and grinning nervously, holding his hands up in front of his chest, palms open and fingers splayed. “Thought we were friends!”
“Grrargh-” Conrad heard himself growl. Smooth, Conrad. Real smooth. The vampire forced himself to take a deep breath, realizing he was literally shaking with rage. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in harshly through his nose, forcing the air out from between clenched teeth, until he felt he could actually speak in coherent sentences.
“Sorry. I’m sorry, Lamont. I was…sorry.” He opened his eyes, peering up at taller, stocky man. The vampire was still ramped up, jaw clenched tight, hands balled into fists at his side, but, words. Definite improvement.
“S’okay, I’m fine, but…what the hell Conrad?” heavy-lidded eyes searched the vampire’s face in worried confusion. “I mean, are you okay? You looked like you were about ready to pop a vessel.”
The vampire forced in another shaky, unnecessary breath, letting it out slowly, trying to calm down.
“Did the stove insult your mother or something? ‘Cause, ya know, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone get so mad at a stove before.” Conrad let out a small huff of amusement, Lamont’s feeble attempt at humor working to dissipate his foul mood. Lamont started shuffling tentatively towards the vampire, hands still raised. “Seriously, you okay?”
“Yes,” the vampire sighed shakily, “yes, I’m fine. Just…”
“Worth did something, didn’t he,” Lamont intoned flatly. “You don’t have to say, he’s the only person I know who can push a man’s buttons like that. S’like his one true talent.”
Conrad found himself nodding wordlessly, anger level slowly seeping downward as Lamont continued inching toward him. He stopped just short of touching the vampire, folding his arms across his broad chest. Thank Christ for small miracles. Conrad liked Lamont, but he didn’t think he could handle anyone touching him just now. Not even his friend.
“I was going to cook something,” he mumbled. “Helps calm me down when I’m angry. But this fucking stove-” he kicked the appliance again, adding a second dent to its side.
“Yeah, I’m not sure Worth’s ever used that thing,” Lamont said, eying the machine critically. “S’probably all gunked up or something.”
“I’m sorry Lamont,” Conrad sighed. “Wasn’t quite the evening I planned on.”
“Eh, it happens,” Lamont shrugged. “So cooking calms you down?”
“Yeah, takes my mind off of what’s pissing me off,” Conrad said, looking distractedly around the kitchen at the bits and pieces of the meal he’d already prepared, leaving the conversation at that. He had no intention of sharing with Lamont why he was pissed. God knew the last thing he wanted to talk about with the man was whether or not he thought Conrad looked fat in these pants. He had his pride, after all.
“And you were gonna cook tonight?” Lamont asked, interrupting the vampire’s train of thought.
“Hmmm? Oh, well, yeah. I mean, I don’t cook just when I’m angry. I mean, I hadn’t in a while, and I haven’t really since I became, you know, and I thought, earlier, that maybe I could…but then Worth was, and…” Conrad trailed off, looking away from the taller man in mild embarrassment, face flushing slightly. So maybe he’d been planning on feeding the two men before jumping into bed with them. So what? He just liked to cook is all. Didn’t mean anything.
“So you’re telling me,” Lamont drawled, voice drawing the vampire’s eyes up from his study of the kitchen’s cracking linoleum floor, “that all that’s standing between me and a home cooked meal is this stove?”
“Erm, well if it worked, yes, I could cook you something,” Conrad spluttered, running a hand sheepishly along the back of his neck.
“Well you finish doing what you need to do for your,” Lamont waved a large, hair covered hand vaguely in Conrad’s direction, “cooking…stuff. I should only need about,” he paused, considering the dented appliance, “twenty minutes or so.”
“What, all of a sudden you’re a handyman?” Conrad asked skeptically, eyebrow arching towards his hairline.
“I’m a man of many talents,” Lamont grinned broadly. “Go on, I mean it. Twenty minutes. Tops.”
Both eyebrows raised incredulously, Conrad nevertheless turned back toward the kitchen counter. “It’s just breakfast food,” he mumbled, “I’m not sure it’ll be worth the trouble.”
“I love breakfast food,” Lamont called from where he was rummaging through a junk-filled cupboard.
“I mean, it’s just bacon fraise, with ah, some fried tomatoes. And mushrooms.”
Lamont’s head snapped up at the mention of bacon, pinning the vampire with his dark eyes. “If you’re trying to talk your way out of cooking,” he said gravely, “you’re not doing a very good job.” He smiled as Conrad chuckled in response, the delivery-man’s hand now cheerfully brandishing a large set of pliers. “You better get moving, I’m gonna be done before you at this point.”
Conrad turned around, smiling, grabbing hold of a large sliver mixing bowl already filled with flour. He reached into the carton on his right and pulled out a large white egg, cracking it deftly, letting only the white slither down into the bowl. He tossed the shell and yolk aside in a small bowl he‘d set out for just that purpose.
Lamont scooted the oven away from the wall and insinuated himself behind the clunky machine, whistling tunelessly. The vampire heard small clanks and clangs ringing out as the delivery man battled with the cold, dead appliance. The two worked in companionable silence until Conrad smelled a faint whiff of gas.
“You’re not going to burn the clinic down, are you?” he called out over his shoulder, adding the last of the ingredients to the batter mixture.
“Naw,” Lamont’s voice drifted back towards him. “We’re good, just cleaning out the supply lines is all. I shut the gas off first, s’just a leftover smell. Amazing what’ll collect in these things after sitting over a decade.”
“I don’t even want to know,” Conrad replied, face drawing up in distaste.
“Heh, yeah, you really don’t,” Lamont chuckled back. “You just about ready? Think this guy’s ready to fire up.”
“Just need to cut up the veg. So you really think it’s going to work?”
“Don’t see why it wouldn’t,” Lamont said, rising up from where he’d been crouching, easing himself out from the confined space and gently shoving the stove back into place. “Just need to get the pilot light going. Hmm, might need to clean that off, too.” The broad-shouldered man moved easily to another cupboard on the opposite side of the kitchen, began rifling through it.
Conrad set the bowl aside, taking up his knife and one of the nice, ripe tomatoes he’d rinsed earlier and set aside. He let the rhythmic, slicing motions calm him, the sheer mindlessness of it emptying his head of any thoughts involving caustic blonds and their nicotine-tinged verbal barbs. He was halfway through the mushrooms when a voice at his left startled him out of his meditation.
“Eighteen minutes, I‘m good,” Lamont drawled, grinning. “You still working on this?”
“Almost done,” the vampire replied. The taller man beamed, reaching out to rest a hand on the small of Conrad‘s back, a tiny, intimate gesture. To his credit, the vampire didn’t tense or try to pull away from the touch. Much. Lamont just smiled, fingers rubbing gently before falling away. Conrad smiled his thanks, grateful that the stocky man never pushed him about his squeamishness over physical contact. It was one thing when they were caught up in the moment, lust flaming through Conrad’s body so fiercely he felt aching and desperate. This, though, the casual, small brush of a hand, a friend slinging an arm over a shoulder in affection, he’d never been able to handle that. He was working on it, though. The whateveritwas he was doing with Lamont and the doctor was helping. (Especially considering Worth’s total lack of respect when it came to personal boundaries.)
Conrad frowned inwardly. He did not want to think about Worth just now. Instead, he forced himself to lean closer to Lamont, tipping his face upward slightly, giving silent permission. The man had just finished fixing the stove, after all.
Lamont smiled gently and leaned down to brush his lips against Conrad’s in an almost chaste kiss. The vampire made a small appreciative sound and nuzzled closer, letting his eyes slip shut as he pressed his mouth more firmly against Lamont’s, lips parting slightly. The delivery man sighed softly into Conrad’s mouth, raising a hair-covered mitt to run lightly along the vampire’s jaw. The touch made Conrad twitch involuntarily, kicking himself mentally immediately afterward. God what was his problem? It’s not like Lamont had never touched him before.
Lamont just smiled against Conrad’s mouth, pulling back from the kiss and ruffling fondly through the vampire’s hair before shifting away.
“So, what’s a bacon, fraz? Froze?”
“Fraise,” Conrad prompted.
“Freyz then,” Lamont said.
“It’s sort of like a bacon pancake,” Conrad said. “Actually, yes, that’s exactly what it is. Bacon pancakes.”
“People can make bacon pancakes?” Lamont whispered, eyes widening in delight.
“They can make pancake anything,” Conrad laughed. God Lamont was adorable when he got excited about something. Like a kid on Christmas. “Yeah, had a friend years ago with a thing for bacon. Used to make them for her all the time.”
“Well here’s another friend that is more than happy to let you cook bacon freyz’s for them,” Lamont grinned. “Anything I can do to help?”
“You’ve already done plenty. Thank you. For the stove.”
“Hey, working stove gets me food, I’m more than happy with that arrangement.”
“Well alright then,” Conrad chuckled softly. “You go sit, this shouldn’t take me too much longer.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Lamont said, making his way over to Worth‘s battered kitchen table, plopping down in a rickety chair. “Today was long. Ever had to deal with a disgruntled Oni?”
“Can’t say that I have,” the vampire replied, arranging the pans he’d brought from his home on the slowly warming stove.
“Lemme tell ya, those guys? Singular concentration. Once their mind’s made up about something there’s not a thing you can do to convince them otherwise.”
The two kept the conversation light, Lamont drawling out various tales of the day’s adventures, Conrad working quickly and efficiently in his food preparations. Butter in the pan, then the smell of sizzling bacon, set aside on a paper towel to drain when the slabs of meat reached deliciously curling perfection. Anger at the doctor forgotten, Conrad let himself be soothed by the underlying domesticity of the evening. He hadn’t known he’d been craving this, a little slice of normal in the vast sea of strange his life had become.
“I feel almost bad to have you feeding me,” Lamont blurted at one point, watching as Conrad poured the top section of batter into the pan.
“Hmm?” Conrad asked distractedly, concentration centered on making sure he didn’t spill anything onto the already filthy range top.
“Well, it must be torture to be making this food knowing you can’t have any yourself,” the man said sheepishly, broad shoulders hitching up in an apologetic shrug.
“Oh, no, it’s fine. I never eat my own cooking,” the vampire responded, grimacing to himself a moment later. Dammit, he hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud!
“Ah?” Lamont asked, arching an eyebrow. “Should I be worried here?”
“No! No, the food’ll be fine, I’m a decent cook,” Conrad answered hurriedly, feeling his face start to flush. Dammit.
“Then um…why not?”
“I guess, um,” Conrad paused to flip the fraise over with a smooth flick of his wrist, easily catching it back in the pan and returning it to the flame. “See, I didn’t teach myself how to cook ‘til I moved out. My mum was kind of, big, on health…” Physical health, mental health, batshit-crazy ideas on health pandered to his hypochondriac mother by crooked quacks…
“Yeah?” Lamont prompted when Conrad trailed off.
“Yes, very big. So all our meals were specially prepared. Totally organic, even before that was popular. Full of bran and flax and things that were supposed to be very good for you.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t really answer my question.”
“Well see, I missed out on all the fun foods when I was growing up. Some kids got pancakes, but me,” Conrad grabbed a pot holder, reaching into the oven to pull out the plate he’d had warming in it, “I got wheat germ and water. So when I finally moved away? Could eat whatever I liked?” He set down the pot holder, grabbing a spatula and shifting the nicely browned fraise onto the plate. “It was liberating. I bought a cookbook and taught myself to cook all the bad-for-me recipes I could find, starting with breakfast foods.”
The vampire paused his story, grabbing a butter knife he’d set aside earlier, cutting the fraise into four neat triangles. “Trouble with that was,” he continued, arranging the wedges carefully, “I gained close to fifteen pounds within the first few months. So, I won‘t eat food like this, even if I could.” He slid the fried tomato/mushroom mix from a second pan onto the warm plate. “I found, though,” he said, turning toward Lamont, food in hand, “that even cooking it made me feel just as good. So,” he set down the plate in front of the delivery man, along with a knife and fork, “I still cook. Even if I don’t eat it.”
Lamont chuckled at Conrad’s little confession, reaching out to rest his hand over the vampire’s. “Hey,” he said amicably, picking up his fork with his free hand, “if it makes you happy, by all means. Don’t let me stop you. Heh, you’re a funny guy, Conrad.” Conrad scowled inwardly as he drew his hand back and straightened. “In a good way, though!” Lamont said hurriedly. “A real good way.”
“You’re just happy to be getting bacon,” the vampire grumbled, sliding into the companion chair to Lamont’s dubious perch.
“Damn right I’m happy for bacon! But,” he paused, stabbing his fork in Conrad’s direction, “I still meant what I said. It‘s good. You‘re good. Thank you for cooking.”
Conrad mumbled his thanks, intent on watching Lamont take his first bite. The vampire wasn’t disappointed, feeling pleased with himself as an expression of contented bliss slid across his friend’s face as he chewed.
“Oh my God,” Lamont whispered before quickly shoveling a second bite into his mouth. Conrad smiled, rising from the table and heading back to the stove, pouring a dollop of batter onto a still warm pan.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be able to eat a second, Conrad,” Lamont called out around a mouthful of fraise.
“No, this isn’t for you,” the vampire replied, face flushing slightly, refusing to look back at his raven-haired companion. “Worth‘ll probably bitch all night if I don‘t make him one, too.”
+++
Between the two men, the kitchen was returned to its usual inelegance, the remaining raw ingredients placed in the shuddering, lime-green fridge, the doctor’s meal covered in foil and placed in the oven for whenever the quack returned to his clinic. That just left the dishes, which Conrad started on out of habit, leaving the vampire alone with his thoughts.
Maybe if I just eat less often I’ll slim back down, Conrad mused, gloved hands elbow deep in soapy water as he worked at cleaning the stack of pans, dishes and utensils he’d dirtied. Problem with that, though, is that really, he only ate when he was hungry. Really hungry. When the hunger clawed its way through his belly like sharp little knives, driving him to distraction. How could he eat less often? Maybe it was all the blood he was taking from Worth. God only knew what the man’s disease-ridden plasma was doing to his innards.
“Here, why don’t you let me do that?” Conrad let out a surprised yelp, so engrossed in his own thoughts he hadn’t heard Lamont come up behind him.
“Heh, sorry!” the broader man said contritely, “didn’t mean to sneak up on you there. Seriously though, it’s the least I can do. I mean you probably need to eat your own dinner, you must be starving by now!”
“Oh, I’m not hungry,” the vampire lied, cursing his treacherous stomach as it chose that moment to let out a long, low grumble.
“Oh yeah?” Lamont asked, eyes sparkling with amusement, mouth quirking slightly.
Conrad sighed. “Look, I just, I’m thinking about cutting back is all.” He turned back to the sink, signaling his desire to close the subject.
“You should eat if you’re hungry, Conrad,” Lamont said, expression broadcasting his concern.
“I said I don’t want to. Can we drop this? I’ll eat when I feel like it.” He angrily scrubbed at the pan he was holding, sloshing sudsy water around, face twisted in a scowl. He stiffened, breath hissing inward when Lamont pressed against his back, wrapping thick, solid arms around the vampire’s torso.
“Let me go,” the vampire growled.
“No,” Lamont said, tone gentle but voice firm. “Not until you tell me what’s going on with you.” That earned the delivery man another growl, Conrad twisting in the man’s arms, trying to break free. Lamont responded by leaning down to run lips gently along a particular sensitive spot on the vampire’s neck. Conrad shuddered and stilled, anger warring with the light, pleasurable sensation.
“Please Lamont,” he said weakly, “just leave me be.” He gasped as Lamont started mouthing more firmly along Conrad‘s skin. Okay, maybe this wasn’t so bad, he thought to himself, struggling to stifle the small, happy sounds that wanted to spill from his mouth, hands gripping tightly to the edge of the sink. Lamont waited until Conrad had relaxed a bit, leaning back into the man’s solid warmth, before pulling back gently.
“What’s up?” he asked softly. “Why aren’t you eating?” He nuzzled the vampire’s sensitized flesh, breath ghosting along the skin.
“N-none of your business,” Conrad gasped. He wasn’t able to mask the small, happy gasp he made as Lamont ran his teeth where there had been only lips and tongue before. The noises turned unhappy, though, when Lamont let his hand migrate lower, rubbing against Conrad’s belly. Dammit. He twisted again, mood broken. The last thing he wanted to be thinking about while Lamont was pawing at him was how the man must be noticing the extra pounds he’d put on.
Lamont paused, hand splaying out wide, gripping Conrad tighter when the action made the smaller man growl and struggle more forcefully.
“Umm…” he drawled into Conrad’s ear, “is this because…of…”
“Look, I am not going to talk with you about this. You or anyone.” Conrad started struggling in earnest, discomfort levels rising dangerously high.
“S’okay,” Lamont said quickly, arms tightening around the vampire’s smaller frame. “We don’t need to talk about it. Just…um, did Worth ever talk to you about-”
“Fuck Worth,” Conrad spat, elbowing Lamont in the ribs out of reflexive rage, immediately feeling guilty as he heard the man let out a small oof of pain. “Sorry,” he whispered, forcing himself to still.
“Meh, I’ve had worse,” Lamont said, arms still circling Conrad. “What I was going to ask, though, is if anyone’s told you about the blood bags?”
“Huh?” Conrad asked, shifting his head to the side, trying to look at Lamont. “What about them?”
“How they’re sorta like vampiric junk food?”
“What??? No, no one bothered to tell me that!”
“Heheheh, yeah, it’s hard for a vampire’s body to handle things that aren’t fresh. S’kinda like hitting up Mickey-D’s every day.”
“Bloody hell!!!” Conrad groaned, sagging in Lamont’s arms as misery swept through him. “Fuck me,” he moaned, “what am I supposed to do now?”
“Um, heheh, you could always get it fresh,” Lamont said, slight snickering betraying his discomfort over the conversation.
“Don’t you think I’d do that if I could?” Conrad snapped angrily. “It’s not so simple.”
“Why not?” the delivery man asked, clearly confused.
“Lamont, think for a second. I can barely stand for you to touch me -no offence or anything- you really think I’m going to be able to bite someone?”
“You seem pretty willing to bite Worth,” the taller man pointed out.
“Yes, but Worth likes to be bit. Plus I’m, sort of, distracted when that happens.” Conrad fidgeted uncomfortably in Lamont’s arms. He did not like to think too much on what he and the blond did when left to their own devices. “And besides, it’s not like I can bite him every time I get hungry. Man may have the constitution of a cockroach, but that much would kill even him.”
“Well…” Lamont said slowly, “you could always feed from me, too.”
“What?” Conrad snapped, head whipping around so he could glare at his stocky companion. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Well you let me touch you sometimes,” Lamont drawled easily.
“Yes but you don’t like to be bitten,” the vampire snarled.
Lamont shrugged, expression indifferent. “Don’t think I’d mind it much,” he said breezily. “I’d like it better than you being so grumpy from starvation.”
“I am not being grumpy,” Conrad grumbled.
“S’that why you were attacking the poor, defenseless stove when I got here?” Lamont asked, mouth quirking slightly.
“That was because Worth’s a complete dick,” the vampire bit out.
“Hmm…” Lamont replied, failing to hide his amusement over Conrad’s reaction. “Look, you’re making this into more of a thing than it needs to be.”
“I am not,” the vampire growled.
“You are, Conrad. Listen, this doesn’t have to be so complicated. I am standing here as a willing, able donor. Someone who, last I checked, you don’t hate, and who you occasionally get naked and to do slippery, naked activities with. No, being bitten by you is not my kink, but seriously, it will not bother me. So it shouldn’t bother you.”
The two men stood staring at each other for several moments, conflict warring in the vampire’s skull. The spell was finally broken by another insistent growl emanating from the vampire’s stomach. So hungry…
“So, um, how should I…” Conrad mumbled, eyes averted in embarrassment.
“Here,” Lamont said, shoving an arm towards the vampire’s face. “Pull my sleeve up, past my elbow.” The vampire nervously gripped the sleeve, slowly pushing it back, trying not to let the trembling in his hands show. Lamont must have noticed, though, since he leaned down and nuzzled gently at Conrad’s ear. “It’s okay,” he breathed gently. “You’ll be fine.”
Conrad let out a shaky, unnecessary breath, trying to calm himself. He could do this. It was just Lamont, after all. He liked Lamont. “O-okay,” he stuttered, clearing his throat nervously. “Ah, what should I, I mean, how do you-”
Lamont cut the vampire off, shoving his arm gently against Conrad’s lips, nestling the bespectacled face close to the crook of it. “Just put your mouth against me,” he said softly. “And when you’re ready, bite down.”
Conrad bit back a whimper, body tense, fighting not to bolt from the room. This was a lot easier with Worth. He tentatively parted his lips, just resting his teeth gently against Lamont’s tanned skin. He did not want to do this. The whole thing felt strange and unnatural. Civilized people didn’t go around placing their mouths on each other sucking out bodily fluids. He was about to pull back and tell Lamont this wasn’t going to work when the taller man moved quickly, raising his other arm up to thread fingers into Conrad’s hair, shoving the vampire’s head forward sharply. Conrad spluttered angrily as the lone fang piercing into the flesh resting against it, filling his mouth with blood. Oh. Oh.
There was no stopping once the flood started. Conrad moaned, gloved hands still dripping suds as they reached up to grasp Lamont’s arm, holding it steady as he began to suck. He squeezed his eyes shut as he fed, throat working, greedily pulling down every drop he could.
A small hiss from Lamont made him slightly more aware of his actions and the vampire lessened his suction. He stroked gently along the man’s broad forearm, partly to encourage the blood to flow faster, but also to provide a small measure of comfort. Just because the man had been willing didn’t make the feeding process a pleasant one.
He was careful to take only what he felt he needed, savoring each drop as they slid thickly over his tongue. He was surprised at the difference in flavor between Worth and Lamont. Worth was sweet, almost like how he remembered chocolate tasting. The blood filling his mouth now, though, seemed somewhat spicy, like cinnamon with nutmeg. He preferred the sweetness of Worth, but Lamont’s blood was still good. So good.
When his hunger finally felt sated, Conrad pulled back from the wound, tongue gently lapping to help stop the bleeding. Lamont breathed evenly behind him, resting some of his bulk against Conrad’s smaller frame. The vampire cuddled the taller man closer, nestling into the warmth of the broad-armed embrace. The two stood silently for several moments, soaking up the quiet, wordless comfort of the other.
Lamont moved first, pulling away to sit down heavily in one of the battered kitchen chairs, legs sprawling out haphazardly as the stocky man leaned back, closing his eyes. Conrad took a moment to remove the gloves he was still wearing, now riddled with blood, and slapped them down on the sink. He moved hesitantly to stand between Lamont’s outstretched legs, not sure if he was welcome. A brown eye cracked open, sensing the vampire’s presence, and a lazy smile spread across Lamont’s face.
“Feeling better?” he drawled, reaching his unbloodied arm out towards the vampire.
“Much, thank you,” Conrad smiled, the feeding having relaxed him enough that straddling across Lamont’s lap, causing the chair to groan in protest, didn’t set off his inner warning bells. Hard to stay squeamish with a belly full of the man’s blood, really. He let a hand wander idly across Lamont’s chest, petting him through his shirt. The man grunted happily at the touch, running a hand gently up and down the vampire’s side.
The calm of the moment was shattered by the sharp bang! of the clinic’s front door being flung open, hitting the adjacent wall and sending the whole space rattling. The two could hear the doctor long before they could see him, the loud sounds of his stumbling and cursing ricocheting off all the walls and echoing through the rooms.
Worth staggered into the kitchen. Inebriated to the point of being unable to stand properly he stood swaying in place instead, bloodshot eyes taking in the two dark-haired men.
“Fuck, ye couldn’ bother ta wait fer me?” he slurred angrily. “Ya fuckin’ faggot assholes.” He wavered a few moments more before an evil, toothy grin split his stubbled face. “Yeh better watch it Lamont,” he sneered. “Sittin’ like tha’ with Princess Porkpie here’s liable t’break the chair.”
Conrad sighed, any improvement to his mood from earlier completely evaporated. Stupid. Despicable. Worth.
Ummm, buh, let's see, what to say about this one? I liked the thought of each one of the characters getting something they felt they needed, hence the title. I also happen to like things that make Conrad furious and Doc Worth treat people horribly, so there's always that as well... Anyways, hope you all enjoy!
Anything At All Pt I (with Pt II to follow promptly!)
Characters: Worth/Lamont/Conrad
Rating: This section? Um, PG-13 for language. ("R" if you're offended by a lot of cussing!)
Synopsis: A not so quick look into a night with the boys to see how their relationship convenient arrangement is progressing. (Or, Conrad kicks shit, feels fat and screams while Lamont proves for a bazillionth time to be the most awesome thing in the room. With bacon.)
Slam!
Conrad knew, he did, that he should never have expected better of the pathetic excuse of a human being.
Crash!
Even found Worth’s inherently despicable nature somewhat endearing, given the right circumstance.
Clang!
It’s just that, things had been so nice the last few weeks. He wouldn’t go so far as to call the quack doctor’s attitude sweet, but there had been a certain, lack of asshattery since the vampire had taken up with both the slouching, chain-smoking blond and solid, even-tempered Lamont Toucey. The three had quickly fallen into an easy pattern; Conrad would show up at Worth’s decrepit clinic every couple days or so. He’d shoot Lamont a quick text message en route to stop by after his last delivery if the man felt so inclined (which so far, seemed to always be the case). Conrad and the doctor would bicker good naturedly while waiting for their raven-haired compatriot, interspersing the verbal sparring with light snacks of freshly oozed Worth-blood. Then Lamont would arrive and the three would spend the rest of the night tangled together on Worth’s mattress, a mess of sweaty limbs, blood-filled kisses and need.
Thud!
Until tonight, apparently. It felt almost like a slap in the face after such a long stretch of relative peace. Conrad got the feeling that sometimes, Worth couldn’t help but reach out and punch things, be it with his fists or words. The man seemed to know exactly what to say to find the gaping chinks in the vampire’s inner armor. Yes, he had noticed he’d been putting on weight lately. And seriously, what the fuck? He had yet to see any sort of benefit to this whole vampirism thing. You’d think there’d be a silver lining somewhere in all this.
Wham!
Sometimes the doctor seemed to have a sixth sense of what to say to dig his dirty, yellowed fingernails into Conrad’s neuroses and twist. The sad fact was even death wasn’t enough for the young man to overcome his body-image issues. So it just figured, didn’t it, that what started as an off-handed comment (“Oh hey, Connie, nobody t’ld me muffin tops were back in style, must’ve missed th’ memo,”) turned into a long string of verbal abuse that Conrad had simply been unprepared for.
Crash!
Which led to his current state, clattering angrily around Worth’s kitchen, waging war with the doctor’s seemingly lifeless stove.
“You fucking piece of shit why won’t you just work already???” he yelled at the offending appliance, red faced and furious. He lashed out with a pointy-toed shoe, kicking it in the side, denting it. He wasn’t sure where Worth had gone. The doctor had snarled something near unintelligible (something to do with the vampire being “a prissy fagged-out bitch”) after Conrad had started screaming at him. The blond’s half-smoked cigarette had smoldered between his sneering lips has he poured out verbal abuse, heavy and thick, before storming out into the night to leave the raging vampire alone in the dingy clinic. That had been half an hour ago at least, and Conrad’s efforts to calm himself with a little culinary therapy had been thwarted by the joke that was the practitioners grease covered, lopsided, notfuckingworking stove. The vampire thought of leaving, but he’d already texted Lamont that he’d be here and wasn’t sure how often the man checked his messages. He was due any moment and Conrad would hate to be rude and leave his friend hanging.
So instead, he went back to fiddling with the stove, jiggling the dials, searching hopefully for some sign of the gas kicking on, a spark of life.
“Gyyyyyyaaaaaaaaahhhhhhrrrrrraaaaaahhhhhh!!!!” he screamed wordlessly, throwing his clenching hands up in frustration when his latest efforts produced no results. “For fuck’s sake you miserable piece of hardware!!! You have just one function in this world and it is to cook things!!! SO WHY AREN’T YOU DOING THAT???”
“Conrad?”
The vampire turned around snarling, no doubt looking positively beastly if Lamont’s reaction was any indication.
“Eheheheh, woah there, heheh,” the delivery man said, snickering and grinning nervously, holding his hands up in front of his chest, palms open and fingers splayed. “Thought we were friends!”
“Grrargh-” Conrad heard himself growl. Smooth, Conrad. Real smooth. The vampire forced himself to take a deep breath, realizing he was literally shaking with rage. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in harshly through his nose, forcing the air out from between clenched teeth, until he felt he could actually speak in coherent sentences.
“Sorry. I’m sorry, Lamont. I was…sorry.” He opened his eyes, peering up at taller, stocky man. The vampire was still ramped up, jaw clenched tight, hands balled into fists at his side, but, words. Definite improvement.
“S’okay, I’m fine, but…what the hell Conrad?” heavy-lidded eyes searched the vampire’s face in worried confusion. “I mean, are you okay? You looked like you were about ready to pop a vessel.”
The vampire forced in another shaky, unnecessary breath, letting it out slowly, trying to calm down.
“Did the stove insult your mother or something? ‘Cause, ya know, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone get so mad at a stove before.” Conrad let out a small huff of amusement, Lamont’s feeble attempt at humor working to dissipate his foul mood. Lamont started shuffling tentatively towards the vampire, hands still raised. “Seriously, you okay?”
“Yes,” the vampire sighed shakily, “yes, I’m fine. Just…”
“Worth did something, didn’t he,” Lamont intoned flatly. “You don’t have to say, he’s the only person I know who can push a man’s buttons like that. S’like his one true talent.”
Conrad found himself nodding wordlessly, anger level slowly seeping downward as Lamont continued inching toward him. He stopped just short of touching the vampire, folding his arms across his broad chest. Thank Christ for small miracles. Conrad liked Lamont, but he didn’t think he could handle anyone touching him just now. Not even his friend.
“I was going to cook something,” he mumbled. “Helps calm me down when I’m angry. But this fucking stove-” he kicked the appliance again, adding a second dent to its side.
“Yeah, I’m not sure Worth’s ever used that thing,” Lamont said, eying the machine critically. “S’probably all gunked up or something.”
“I’m sorry Lamont,” Conrad sighed. “Wasn’t quite the evening I planned on.”
“Eh, it happens,” Lamont shrugged. “So cooking calms you down?”
“Yeah, takes my mind off of what’s pissing me off,” Conrad said, looking distractedly around the kitchen at the bits and pieces of the meal he’d already prepared, leaving the conversation at that. He had no intention of sharing with Lamont why he was pissed. God knew the last thing he wanted to talk about with the man was whether or not he thought Conrad looked fat in these pants. He had his pride, after all.
“And you were gonna cook tonight?” Lamont asked, interrupting the vampire’s train of thought.
“Hmmm? Oh, well, yeah. I mean, I don’t cook just when I’m angry. I mean, I hadn’t in a while, and I haven’t really since I became, you know, and I thought, earlier, that maybe I could…but then Worth was, and…” Conrad trailed off, looking away from the taller man in mild embarrassment, face flushing slightly. So maybe he’d been planning on feeding the two men before jumping into bed with them. So what? He just liked to cook is all. Didn’t mean anything.
“So you’re telling me,” Lamont drawled, voice drawing the vampire’s eyes up from his study of the kitchen’s cracking linoleum floor, “that all that’s standing between me and a home cooked meal is this stove?”
“Erm, well if it worked, yes, I could cook you something,” Conrad spluttered, running a hand sheepishly along the back of his neck.
“Well you finish doing what you need to do for your,” Lamont waved a large, hair covered hand vaguely in Conrad’s direction, “cooking…stuff. I should only need about,” he paused, considering the dented appliance, “twenty minutes or so.”
“What, all of a sudden you’re a handyman?” Conrad asked skeptically, eyebrow arching towards his hairline.
“I’m a man of many talents,” Lamont grinned broadly. “Go on, I mean it. Twenty minutes. Tops.”
Both eyebrows raised incredulously, Conrad nevertheless turned back toward the kitchen counter. “It’s just breakfast food,” he mumbled, “I’m not sure it’ll be worth the trouble.”
“I love breakfast food,” Lamont called from where he was rummaging through a junk-filled cupboard.
“I mean, it’s just bacon fraise, with ah, some fried tomatoes. And mushrooms.”
Lamont’s head snapped up at the mention of bacon, pinning the vampire with his dark eyes. “If you’re trying to talk your way out of cooking,” he said gravely, “you’re not doing a very good job.” He smiled as Conrad chuckled in response, the delivery-man’s hand now cheerfully brandishing a large set of pliers. “You better get moving, I’m gonna be done before you at this point.”
Conrad turned around, smiling, grabbing hold of a large sliver mixing bowl already filled with flour. He reached into the carton on his right and pulled out a large white egg, cracking it deftly, letting only the white slither down into the bowl. He tossed the shell and yolk aside in a small bowl he‘d set out for just that purpose.
Lamont scooted the oven away from the wall and insinuated himself behind the clunky machine, whistling tunelessly. The vampire heard small clanks and clangs ringing out as the delivery man battled with the cold, dead appliance. The two worked in companionable silence until Conrad smelled a faint whiff of gas.
“You’re not going to burn the clinic down, are you?” he called out over his shoulder, adding the last of the ingredients to the batter mixture.
“Naw,” Lamont’s voice drifted back towards him. “We’re good, just cleaning out the supply lines is all. I shut the gas off first, s’just a leftover smell. Amazing what’ll collect in these things after sitting over a decade.”
“I don’t even want to know,” Conrad replied, face drawing up in distaste.
“Heh, yeah, you really don’t,” Lamont chuckled back. “You just about ready? Think this guy’s ready to fire up.”
“Just need to cut up the veg. So you really think it’s going to work?”
“Don’t see why it wouldn’t,” Lamont said, rising up from where he’d been crouching, easing himself out from the confined space and gently shoving the stove back into place. “Just need to get the pilot light going. Hmm, might need to clean that off, too.” The broad-shouldered man moved easily to another cupboard on the opposite side of the kitchen, began rifling through it.
Conrad set the bowl aside, taking up his knife and one of the nice, ripe tomatoes he’d rinsed earlier and set aside. He let the rhythmic, slicing motions calm him, the sheer mindlessness of it emptying his head of any thoughts involving caustic blonds and their nicotine-tinged verbal barbs. He was halfway through the mushrooms when a voice at his left startled him out of his meditation.
“Eighteen minutes, I‘m good,” Lamont drawled, grinning. “You still working on this?”
“Almost done,” the vampire replied. The taller man beamed, reaching out to rest a hand on the small of Conrad‘s back, a tiny, intimate gesture. To his credit, the vampire didn’t tense or try to pull away from the touch. Much. Lamont just smiled, fingers rubbing gently before falling away. Conrad smiled his thanks, grateful that the stocky man never pushed him about his squeamishness over physical contact. It was one thing when they were caught up in the moment, lust flaming through Conrad’s body so fiercely he felt aching and desperate. This, though, the casual, small brush of a hand, a friend slinging an arm over a shoulder in affection, he’d never been able to handle that. He was working on it, though. The whateveritwas he was doing with Lamont and the doctor was helping. (Especially considering Worth’s total lack of respect when it came to personal boundaries.)
Conrad frowned inwardly. He did not want to think about Worth just now. Instead, he forced himself to lean closer to Lamont, tipping his face upward slightly, giving silent permission. The man had just finished fixing the stove, after all.
Lamont smiled gently and leaned down to brush his lips against Conrad’s in an almost chaste kiss. The vampire made a small appreciative sound and nuzzled closer, letting his eyes slip shut as he pressed his mouth more firmly against Lamont’s, lips parting slightly. The delivery man sighed softly into Conrad’s mouth, raising a hair-covered mitt to run lightly along the vampire’s jaw. The touch made Conrad twitch involuntarily, kicking himself mentally immediately afterward. God what was his problem? It’s not like Lamont had never touched him before.
Lamont just smiled against Conrad’s mouth, pulling back from the kiss and ruffling fondly through the vampire’s hair before shifting away.
“So, what’s a bacon, fraz? Froze?”
“Fraise,” Conrad prompted.
“Freyz then,” Lamont said.
“It’s sort of like a bacon pancake,” Conrad said. “Actually, yes, that’s exactly what it is. Bacon pancakes.”
“People can make bacon pancakes?” Lamont whispered, eyes widening in delight.
“They can make pancake anything,” Conrad laughed. God Lamont was adorable when he got excited about something. Like a kid on Christmas. “Yeah, had a friend years ago with a thing for bacon. Used to make them for her all the time.”
“Well here’s another friend that is more than happy to let you cook bacon freyz’s for them,” Lamont grinned. “Anything I can do to help?”
“You’ve already done plenty. Thank you. For the stove.”
“Hey, working stove gets me food, I’m more than happy with that arrangement.”
“Well alright then,” Conrad chuckled softly. “You go sit, this shouldn’t take me too much longer.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Lamont said, making his way over to Worth‘s battered kitchen table, plopping down in a rickety chair. “Today was long. Ever had to deal with a disgruntled Oni?”
“Can’t say that I have,” the vampire replied, arranging the pans he’d brought from his home on the slowly warming stove.
“Lemme tell ya, those guys? Singular concentration. Once their mind’s made up about something there’s not a thing you can do to convince them otherwise.”
The two kept the conversation light, Lamont drawling out various tales of the day’s adventures, Conrad working quickly and efficiently in his food preparations. Butter in the pan, then the smell of sizzling bacon, set aside on a paper towel to drain when the slabs of meat reached deliciously curling perfection. Anger at the doctor forgotten, Conrad let himself be soothed by the underlying domesticity of the evening. He hadn’t known he’d been craving this, a little slice of normal in the vast sea of strange his life had become.
“I feel almost bad to have you feeding me,” Lamont blurted at one point, watching as Conrad poured the top section of batter into the pan.
“Hmm?” Conrad asked distractedly, concentration centered on making sure he didn’t spill anything onto the already filthy range top.
“Well, it must be torture to be making this food knowing you can’t have any yourself,” the man said sheepishly, broad shoulders hitching up in an apologetic shrug.
“Oh, no, it’s fine. I never eat my own cooking,” the vampire responded, grimacing to himself a moment later. Dammit, he hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud!
“Ah?” Lamont asked, arching an eyebrow. “Should I be worried here?”
“No! No, the food’ll be fine, I’m a decent cook,” Conrad answered hurriedly, feeling his face start to flush. Dammit.
“Then um…why not?”
“I guess, um,” Conrad paused to flip the fraise over with a smooth flick of his wrist, easily catching it back in the pan and returning it to the flame. “See, I didn’t teach myself how to cook ‘til I moved out. My mum was kind of, big, on health…” Physical health, mental health, batshit-crazy ideas on health pandered to his hypochondriac mother by crooked quacks…
“Yeah?” Lamont prompted when Conrad trailed off.
“Yes, very big. So all our meals were specially prepared. Totally organic, even before that was popular. Full of bran and flax and things that were supposed to be very good for you.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t really answer my question.”
“Well see, I missed out on all the fun foods when I was growing up. Some kids got pancakes, but me,” Conrad grabbed a pot holder, reaching into the oven to pull out the plate he’d had warming in it, “I got wheat germ and water. So when I finally moved away? Could eat whatever I liked?” He set down the pot holder, grabbing a spatula and shifting the nicely browned fraise onto the plate. “It was liberating. I bought a cookbook and taught myself to cook all the bad-for-me recipes I could find, starting with breakfast foods.”
The vampire paused his story, grabbing a butter knife he’d set aside earlier, cutting the fraise into four neat triangles. “Trouble with that was,” he continued, arranging the wedges carefully, “I gained close to fifteen pounds within the first few months. So, I won‘t eat food like this, even if I could.” He slid the fried tomato/mushroom mix from a second pan onto the warm plate. “I found, though,” he said, turning toward Lamont, food in hand, “that even cooking it made me feel just as good. So,” he set down the plate in front of the delivery man, along with a knife and fork, “I still cook. Even if I don’t eat it.”
Lamont chuckled at Conrad’s little confession, reaching out to rest his hand over the vampire’s. “Hey,” he said amicably, picking up his fork with his free hand, “if it makes you happy, by all means. Don’t let me stop you. Heh, you’re a funny guy, Conrad.” Conrad scowled inwardly as he drew his hand back and straightened. “In a good way, though!” Lamont said hurriedly. “A real good way.”
“You’re just happy to be getting bacon,” the vampire grumbled, sliding into the companion chair to Lamont’s dubious perch.
“Damn right I’m happy for bacon! But,” he paused, stabbing his fork in Conrad’s direction, “I still meant what I said. It‘s good. You‘re good. Thank you for cooking.”
Conrad mumbled his thanks, intent on watching Lamont take his first bite. The vampire wasn’t disappointed, feeling pleased with himself as an expression of contented bliss slid across his friend’s face as he chewed.
“Oh my God,” Lamont whispered before quickly shoveling a second bite into his mouth. Conrad smiled, rising from the table and heading back to the stove, pouring a dollop of batter onto a still warm pan.
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll be able to eat a second, Conrad,” Lamont called out around a mouthful of fraise.
“No, this isn’t for you,” the vampire replied, face flushing slightly, refusing to look back at his raven-haired companion. “Worth‘ll probably bitch all night if I don‘t make him one, too.”
+++
Between the two men, the kitchen was returned to its usual inelegance, the remaining raw ingredients placed in the shuddering, lime-green fridge, the doctor’s meal covered in foil and placed in the oven for whenever the quack returned to his clinic. That just left the dishes, which Conrad started on out of habit, leaving the vampire alone with his thoughts.
Maybe if I just eat less often I’ll slim back down, Conrad mused, gloved hands elbow deep in soapy water as he worked at cleaning the stack of pans, dishes and utensils he’d dirtied. Problem with that, though, is that really, he only ate when he was hungry. Really hungry. When the hunger clawed its way through his belly like sharp little knives, driving him to distraction. How could he eat less often? Maybe it was all the blood he was taking from Worth. God only knew what the man’s disease-ridden plasma was doing to his innards.
“Here, why don’t you let me do that?” Conrad let out a surprised yelp, so engrossed in his own thoughts he hadn’t heard Lamont come up behind him.
“Heh, sorry!” the broader man said contritely, “didn’t mean to sneak up on you there. Seriously though, it’s the least I can do. I mean you probably need to eat your own dinner, you must be starving by now!”
“Oh, I’m not hungry,” the vampire lied, cursing his treacherous stomach as it chose that moment to let out a long, low grumble.
“Oh yeah?” Lamont asked, eyes sparkling with amusement, mouth quirking slightly.
Conrad sighed. “Look, I just, I’m thinking about cutting back is all.” He turned back to the sink, signaling his desire to close the subject.
“You should eat if you’re hungry, Conrad,” Lamont said, expression broadcasting his concern.
“I said I don’t want to. Can we drop this? I’ll eat when I feel like it.” He angrily scrubbed at the pan he was holding, sloshing sudsy water around, face twisted in a scowl. He stiffened, breath hissing inward when Lamont pressed against his back, wrapping thick, solid arms around the vampire’s torso.
“Let me go,” the vampire growled.
“No,” Lamont said, tone gentle but voice firm. “Not until you tell me what’s going on with you.” That earned the delivery man another growl, Conrad twisting in the man’s arms, trying to break free. Lamont responded by leaning down to run lips gently along a particular sensitive spot on the vampire’s neck. Conrad shuddered and stilled, anger warring with the light, pleasurable sensation.
“Please Lamont,” he said weakly, “just leave me be.” He gasped as Lamont started mouthing more firmly along Conrad‘s skin. Okay, maybe this wasn’t so bad, he thought to himself, struggling to stifle the small, happy sounds that wanted to spill from his mouth, hands gripping tightly to the edge of the sink. Lamont waited until Conrad had relaxed a bit, leaning back into the man’s solid warmth, before pulling back gently.
“What’s up?” he asked softly. “Why aren’t you eating?” He nuzzled the vampire’s sensitized flesh, breath ghosting along the skin.
“N-none of your business,” Conrad gasped. He wasn’t able to mask the small, happy gasp he made as Lamont ran his teeth where there had been only lips and tongue before. The noises turned unhappy, though, when Lamont let his hand migrate lower, rubbing against Conrad’s belly. Dammit. He twisted again, mood broken. The last thing he wanted to be thinking about while Lamont was pawing at him was how the man must be noticing the extra pounds he’d put on.
Lamont paused, hand splaying out wide, gripping Conrad tighter when the action made the smaller man growl and struggle more forcefully.
“Umm…” he drawled into Conrad’s ear, “is this because…of…”
“Look, I am not going to talk with you about this. You or anyone.” Conrad started struggling in earnest, discomfort levels rising dangerously high.
“S’okay,” Lamont said quickly, arms tightening around the vampire’s smaller frame. “We don’t need to talk about it. Just…um, did Worth ever talk to you about-”
“Fuck Worth,” Conrad spat, elbowing Lamont in the ribs out of reflexive rage, immediately feeling guilty as he heard the man let out a small oof of pain. “Sorry,” he whispered, forcing himself to still.
“Meh, I’ve had worse,” Lamont said, arms still circling Conrad. “What I was going to ask, though, is if anyone’s told you about the blood bags?”
“Huh?” Conrad asked, shifting his head to the side, trying to look at Lamont. “What about them?”
“How they’re sorta like vampiric junk food?”
“What??? No, no one bothered to tell me that!”
“Heheheh, yeah, it’s hard for a vampire’s body to handle things that aren’t fresh. S’kinda like hitting up Mickey-D’s every day.”
“Bloody hell!!!” Conrad groaned, sagging in Lamont’s arms as misery swept through him. “Fuck me,” he moaned, “what am I supposed to do now?”
“Um, heheh, you could always get it fresh,” Lamont said, slight snickering betraying his discomfort over the conversation.
“Don’t you think I’d do that if I could?” Conrad snapped angrily. “It’s not so simple.”
“Why not?” the delivery man asked, clearly confused.
“Lamont, think for a second. I can barely stand for you to touch me -no offence or anything- you really think I’m going to be able to bite someone?”
“You seem pretty willing to bite Worth,” the taller man pointed out.
“Yes, but Worth likes to be bit. Plus I’m, sort of, distracted when that happens.” Conrad fidgeted uncomfortably in Lamont’s arms. He did not like to think too much on what he and the blond did when left to their own devices. “And besides, it’s not like I can bite him every time I get hungry. Man may have the constitution of a cockroach, but that much would kill even him.”
“Well…” Lamont said slowly, “you could always feed from me, too.”
“What?” Conrad snapped, head whipping around so he could glare at his stocky companion. “Why the fuck would I do that?”
“Well you let me touch you sometimes,” Lamont drawled easily.
“Yes but you don’t like to be bitten,” the vampire snarled.
Lamont shrugged, expression indifferent. “Don’t think I’d mind it much,” he said breezily. “I’d like it better than you being so grumpy from starvation.”
“I am not being grumpy,” Conrad grumbled.
“S’that why you were attacking the poor, defenseless stove when I got here?” Lamont asked, mouth quirking slightly.
“That was because Worth’s a complete dick,” the vampire bit out.
“Hmm…” Lamont replied, failing to hide his amusement over Conrad’s reaction. “Look, you’re making this into more of a thing than it needs to be.”
“I am not,” the vampire growled.
“You are, Conrad. Listen, this doesn’t have to be so complicated. I am standing here as a willing, able donor. Someone who, last I checked, you don’t hate, and who you occasionally get naked and to do slippery, naked activities with. No, being bitten by you is not my kink, but seriously, it will not bother me. So it shouldn’t bother you.”
The two men stood staring at each other for several moments, conflict warring in the vampire’s skull. The spell was finally broken by another insistent growl emanating from the vampire’s stomach. So hungry…
“So, um, how should I…” Conrad mumbled, eyes averted in embarrassment.
“Here,” Lamont said, shoving an arm towards the vampire’s face. “Pull my sleeve up, past my elbow.” The vampire nervously gripped the sleeve, slowly pushing it back, trying not to let the trembling in his hands show. Lamont must have noticed, though, since he leaned down and nuzzled gently at Conrad’s ear. “It’s okay,” he breathed gently. “You’ll be fine.”
Conrad let out a shaky, unnecessary breath, trying to calm himself. He could do this. It was just Lamont, after all. He liked Lamont. “O-okay,” he stuttered, clearing his throat nervously. “Ah, what should I, I mean, how do you-”
Lamont cut the vampire off, shoving his arm gently against Conrad’s lips, nestling the bespectacled face close to the crook of it. “Just put your mouth against me,” he said softly. “And when you’re ready, bite down.”
Conrad bit back a whimper, body tense, fighting not to bolt from the room. This was a lot easier with Worth. He tentatively parted his lips, just resting his teeth gently against Lamont’s tanned skin. He did not want to do this. The whole thing felt strange and unnatural. Civilized people didn’t go around placing their mouths on each other sucking out bodily fluids. He was about to pull back and tell Lamont this wasn’t going to work when the taller man moved quickly, raising his other arm up to thread fingers into Conrad’s hair, shoving the vampire’s head forward sharply. Conrad spluttered angrily as the lone fang piercing into the flesh resting against it, filling his mouth with blood. Oh. Oh.
There was no stopping once the flood started. Conrad moaned, gloved hands still dripping suds as they reached up to grasp Lamont’s arm, holding it steady as he began to suck. He squeezed his eyes shut as he fed, throat working, greedily pulling down every drop he could.
A small hiss from Lamont made him slightly more aware of his actions and the vampire lessened his suction. He stroked gently along the man’s broad forearm, partly to encourage the blood to flow faster, but also to provide a small measure of comfort. Just because the man had been willing didn’t make the feeding process a pleasant one.
He was careful to take only what he felt he needed, savoring each drop as they slid thickly over his tongue. He was surprised at the difference in flavor between Worth and Lamont. Worth was sweet, almost like how he remembered chocolate tasting. The blood filling his mouth now, though, seemed somewhat spicy, like cinnamon with nutmeg. He preferred the sweetness of Worth, but Lamont’s blood was still good. So good.
When his hunger finally felt sated, Conrad pulled back from the wound, tongue gently lapping to help stop the bleeding. Lamont breathed evenly behind him, resting some of his bulk against Conrad’s smaller frame. The vampire cuddled the taller man closer, nestling into the warmth of the broad-armed embrace. The two stood silently for several moments, soaking up the quiet, wordless comfort of the other.
Lamont moved first, pulling away to sit down heavily in one of the battered kitchen chairs, legs sprawling out haphazardly as the stocky man leaned back, closing his eyes. Conrad took a moment to remove the gloves he was still wearing, now riddled with blood, and slapped them down on the sink. He moved hesitantly to stand between Lamont’s outstretched legs, not sure if he was welcome. A brown eye cracked open, sensing the vampire’s presence, and a lazy smile spread across Lamont’s face.
“Feeling better?” he drawled, reaching his unbloodied arm out towards the vampire.
“Much, thank you,” Conrad smiled, the feeding having relaxed him enough that straddling across Lamont’s lap, causing the chair to groan in protest, didn’t set off his inner warning bells. Hard to stay squeamish with a belly full of the man’s blood, really. He let a hand wander idly across Lamont’s chest, petting him through his shirt. The man grunted happily at the touch, running a hand gently up and down the vampire’s side.
The calm of the moment was shattered by the sharp bang! of the clinic’s front door being flung open, hitting the adjacent wall and sending the whole space rattling. The two could hear the doctor long before they could see him, the loud sounds of his stumbling and cursing ricocheting off all the walls and echoing through the rooms.
Worth staggered into the kitchen. Inebriated to the point of being unable to stand properly he stood swaying in place instead, bloodshot eyes taking in the two dark-haired men.
“Fuck, ye couldn’ bother ta wait fer me?” he slurred angrily. “Ya fuckin’ faggot assholes.” He wavered a few moments more before an evil, toothy grin split his stubbled face. “Yeh better watch it Lamont,” he sneered. “Sittin’ like tha’ with Princess Porkpie here’s liable t’break the chair.”
Conrad sighed, any improvement to his mood from earlier completely evaporated. Stupid. Despicable. Worth.