So, this is kind of my "shit it's almost halloween. I'd better write something!" Story. Since I alternate my stories between USUK and FRUK (indecicive-), this one is USUK.
More info at the end. Enjoy!
It started out as the perfect relationship.
Alfred had given the Brit his phone number when they had met at the coffee shop. The first date had been rocky, but what first date isn't? Sure, Arthur swore like a sailor, was overly sarcastic, and was cynical, but they could get past that, and they did.
Alfred had remembered their first kiss. It had been in September, under the leaves of a falling tree. It had been slightly awkward, foreheads and noses bumping, but it was sweet and sensual, though the American found the shape of the Brit's teeth to be odd. He pushed the thought away.
It was now a month later, and he had regretted it.
Even through the excruciating pain, he remembered the date clearly. He remembered it because it was ironic.
October 31, 2015.
This would be the day that he would die.
The day had started normal; they had met up for a movie and dinner, not to mention pumpkin pie (which Alfred had insisted they get, as pumpkin is the quintessential Halloween symbol). The real trouble started as they walked home, weaving in between groups of excited trick-or-treat-ers.
"This way, love," Arthur had said, leading the American down a street he had never seen before.
"Where the heck are we going?" Al asked. "I don't think I've ever been down this street..."
"Oh, will you shut up, Jones?" The tone of the Brit's voice was one Alfred didn't like; it was angry and animalistic.
"What's going on, babe?" He laughed nervously, backing away. "This is a joke, right?"
"I'm afraid not." Rolling up his sleeves, he walked closer to the American until he was able to corner him against a wall, fangs barred.
Fangs.
He cried out in pain as Arthur's fangs—the fangs he had chosen to ignore the month before—sank into his skin, blood spilling across the tanned skin of his neck. His nails clawed at the brick wall of the alleyway behind him as he tilted his head back, trying to get his neck away from the vampire.
As the warm, sticky blood trailed down him, he felt Arthur smirk against his skin, and he knew that this had been planned. Did this mean that the Brit had never loved him? Tears rose to his eyes as he thought that.
No, he thought to himself. No, it can't be true. Arthur loves me! I know that he does!
But with every drop of blood that was sucked, he began to doubt that fact.
He had even brought this upon himself. He was just too trusting in the good of people, so much so that maybe, just maybe, he had ignored things that would have hinted at this hellish nightmare.
His body grew week, his shoulders slumping and his arms hanging limply at his sides. His legs gave out, and blood soaked into his shirt and down his chest as the monster pulled his fangs out of his skin, laying the American down so that he could continue feasting.
"So naïve," Arthur purred in a voice that made Alfred's skin crawl. "You never noticed, hm? What a shame. You could have saved yourself." He kissed his forehead, leaving a bloody kiss mark, before sinking his fangs into Alfred's tender neck again.
Alfred screamed in agony, adrenaline no longer able to mask whatever pain he felt. His vision blackened as Arthur straddled him, and he was dying, dying, dying... Dead!
Alfred woke up screaming, a cold sweat covering him. His tee shirt clung to him as he clutched his chest tightly, his hands eventually trailing up to his neck. He gave a sigh of relief; it had all been a dream. Another nightmare in a series of bad dreams.
"You alright?" A smooth voice with a British accent asked. He looked to the doorframe of his bathroom to see his boyfriend, Arthur Kirkland, with a toothbrush still in his mouth. Arthur Kirkland, not covered in blood, not trying to kill him. His Arthur, not the psychotic vampire version.
"Yeah," Alfred laughed nervously. "Just a bad dream."
"Another one?"
"Nothing to worry yourself over; it's nothing the Hero can't handle."
"Well, alright... But if you ever want to talk about it..."
"Yeah... Maybe later..." The American scratched the back of his head.
Arthur nodded. "Well, tell me when you're dressed. We should get the house ready for that halloween party of yours."
Giving a relieved sigh, Alfred went to go put on clothes as Arthur went back to brushing his teeth. When he finished, there was blood in the bristles.
"Sweet fuck all..." He muttered. "After all these years, you'd think I'd have figured out how to not bite myself..."
DOUBLE PLOT TWIST!
So... The only thing halloween-ish is the date, I guess. Oops? But it had a vampire Arthur in it, so I guess it counts...
Anywho, have a happy Halloween!
-YY